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MISCELLANIES 

BEING VOLUME XI. 

OF 

EMERSON'S COMPLETE WORKS 



I 



MISCELLANIES 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 




BOSTON 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street 




^h^ 



^. 






Copyright, 1883, 
Br EDWARD W. EMERSON. 

All rights reserved. 



The Riverside Press, Cambridge : 
Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Co. 



NOTE. 



The first five pieces in tliis volume, and the Ed- 
itorial Address from the " Massachusetts Quarterly 
Review" were published by Mr. Emerson, long 
ago. The speeches at the John Brown, the Walter 
Scott, and the Free Religious Association meetings 
were published at the time, no doubt with his con- 
sent, but without any active co-operation on his 
part. The " Fortune of the Republic " appeared 
separately in 1879: the rest have never been pub- 
lished. In none was any change from the original 
form made by me, except in the " Fortune of the 
Republic," which was made up from several lect- 
ures for the occasion upon which it was read. 

J. E. CABOT. 



CO]^TEKTS. 



—4 

PAGE 

The Lord's Supper 7 

Historical Discourse in Concord .... 31 
Address at the Dedication of the Soldiers' Mon- 
ument IN Concord 99 

Address on Emancipation in the British West 

Indies 129 

War 177 

The Fugitive Slave Law 203 

The Assault upon Mr. Sumner .... 231 

Speech on Affairs in Kansas 239 

Kemarks at a Meeting for the Relief of John 

Brown's Family 249 

John Brown: Speech at Salem .... 257 
Theodore Parker : Address at the Memorial Meet- 
ing IN Boston 265 

American Civilization 275 

The Emancipation Proclamation 291 

Abraham Lincoln 305 

Harvard Commemoration Speech , . . .317 
Editors' Address: Massachusetts Quarterly Re- 
view 323 

Woman 335 

Address to Kossuth 357 



Viii CONTENTS. 

PA6S 

Egbert Buens 363 

Walter Scott 373 

Remarks at the Organization of the Free Relig- 
ious Association 379 

Speech at the Annual Meeting of the Free Re- 
ligious Association 385 

The Fortune of the Republic 393 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 

SERMON DELIVERED BEFORE THE SECOND CHURCH IN BOSTON 
SEPTEMBER 9, 1832. 




THE LOKD'S SUPPER. 



The Kingdom of God is not meat and drink ; but righteous- 
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. — Romans xiv. 
17. 

In the history of the Church no subject has been 
more fruitful of controversy than the Lord's Sup- 
per. There never has been any unanimity in the 
understanding of its nature, nor any uniformity in 
the mode of celebrating it. Without considering 
the frivolous questions which have been lately de- 
bated as to the posture in which men should par- 
take of it ; whether mixed or unmixed wine should 
be served ; whether leavened or unleavened bread 
should be broken ; — the questions have been settled 
differently in every church, who should be admitted 
to the feast, and how often it should be prepared. 
In the Catholic Church, infants were at one time 
permitted and then forbidden to partake ; and, 
since the ninth century, the laity receive the bread 
only, the cup being reserved to the priesthood. So, 
as to the time of the solemnity. In the Fourth 



10 SERMON ON 

Lateran Council, it was decreed that any believer 
should communicate at least once in a year, — at 
Easter. Afterwards it was determined that this 
Sacrament should be received three times in the 
year, — at Easter, Whitsuntide and Christmas. 
But more important controversies have arisen re- 
specting its nature. The famous question of the 
Real Presence was the main controversy between 
the Church of England and the Church of Rome. 
The doctrine of the Consubstantiation taught by 
Luther was denied by Calvin. In the Church of 
England, Archbishops Laud and Wake maintained 
that the elements were an Eucharist, or sacrifice of 
Thanksgiving to God ; Cudworth and Warburton, 
that this was not a sacrifice, but a sacrificial feast ; 
and Bishop Hoadley, that it was neither a sacrifice 
nor a feast after sacrifice, but a simple commemo- 
ration. And finally, it is now near two hvuidred 
years since the Society of Quakers denied the au- 
thority of the rite altogether, and gave good reasons 
for disusing it. 

I allude to these facts only to show that, so far 
from the supper being a tradition in which men 
are fully agreed, there has always been the widest 
room for difference of opinion uj)on this particular. 
Having recently given particular attention to this 
subject, I was led to the conclusion that Jesus did 
not intend to establish an institution for perpetual 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. H 

observance when he ate the Passover with his dis- 
ciples ; and, further, to the opinion, that it is not 
expedient to celebrate it as we do. I shall now 
endeavor to state distinctly my reasons for these 
two opinions. 

I. The authority of the rite. 

An account of the last supper of Christ with his 
disciples is given by the four Evangelists, Mat- 
thew, Mark, Luke, and John. 

In St. Matthew's Gospel (Matt. xx\a. 26-30) 
are recorded the words of Jesus in giving bread and 
wine on that occasion to his disciples, but no ex- 
pression occurs intimating that this feast was here- 
after to be commemorated. In St. Mark (Mark 
xiv. 22-25) the same words are recorded, and still 
with no intimation that the occasion was to be re- 
membered. St. Luke (Luke xxii. 19), after re- 
lating the breaking of the bread, has these words : 
"This do in remembrance of me." In St. John, 
although other occurrences of the same evening are 
related, this whole transaction is passed over with- 
out notice. 

Now observe the facts. Two of the Evangelists, 
namely, Matthew and John, were of the twelve dis- 
ciples, and were present on that occasion. Neither 
of them drops the slightest intimation of any inten- 
tion on the part of Jesus to set up anything perma- 
nent. John especially, the beloved disciple, who 



12 SERMON ON 

has recorded witli minuteness the conversation and 
the transactions of that memorable evening, has 
quite omitted such a notice. Neither does it ap- 
pear to have come to the knowledge of Mark, who, 
though not an eye-witness, relates the other facts. 
This material fact, that the occasion was to be re- 
membered, is found in Luke alone, who was not 
present. There is no reason, however, that we 
know, for rejecting the account of Lid^e. I doubt 
not, the expression was used by Jesus. I shall pres- 
ently consider its meaning. I have only brought 
these accounts together, that you may judge whether 
it is likely that a solemn institution, to be continued 
to the end of time by all mankind, as they should 
come, nation after nation, within the influence of 
the Christian religion, would have been established 
in this slight manner — in a manner so slight, that 
the intention of commemorating it should not ap- 
pear, from their narrative, to have caught the ear 
or dwelt in the mind of the only two among the 
twelve who wrote down what happened. 

Still we must svippose that the. expression, " This 
do in remembrance of me," had come to the ear of 
Luke from some disciple who was present. What 
did it really signify ? It is a prophetic and an af- 
fectionate expression. Jesus is a Jew, sitting with 
his countrymen, celebrating their national feast. 
He thinks of his own impending death, and wishes 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 13 

the minds of his disciples to be prepared for it. 
" When hereafter," he says to them, " you shall 
keep the Passover, it will have an altered aspect to 
your eyes. It is now a historical covenant of God 
with the Jewish nation. Hereafter it will remind 
you of a new covenant sealed with my blood. In 
years to come, as long as your people shall come 
up to Jerusalem to keep this feast, the connection 
which has subsisted between us will give a new 
meaning in your eyes to the national festival, as 
the anniversary of my death." I see natural, feel- 
ing and beauty in the use of such language . from 
Jesus, a friend to his friends ; I can readily imagine 
that he was willing and desirous, when his disciples 
met, his memory should hallow their intercourse ; 
but I cannot bring myself to believe that in the use 
of such an expression he looked beyond the living- 
generation, beyond the abolition of the festival he 
was celebrating, and the scattering of the nation, 
and meant to impose a memorial feast upon the 
whole world. 

Without presuming to fix precisely the purpose 
in the mind of Jesus, you will see that many opin- 
ions may be entertained of his intention, all con- 
sistent with the opinion that he did not design a 
perpetual ordinance. He may have foreseen that 
his disciples would meet to remember him, and that 
with good effect. It may have crossed his mind 



14 SER3I0N ON 

that this would be easily continued a hundred or a 
thousand years, — as men more easily transmit a 
form than a virtue, — and yet have been altogether 
out of his purpose to fasten it upon men in all times 
and all countries. 

But though the words, " Do this in remembrance 
of me," do not occur in Matthew, Mark or John, 
and although it should be granted us that, taken 
alone, they do not necessarily import so much as is 
usually thought, yet many persons are apt to imag- 
ine that the very striking and personal manner in 
which the eating and drinking is described, indi- 
cates a striking and formal purpose to found a fes- 
tival. And I admit that this impression might 
probably be left upon the mind of one who read 
only the passages under consideration in the New 
Testament. But tliis impression is removed by 
reading any narrative of the mode in which the an- 
cient or the modern Jews have kept the Passover. 
It is then perceived that the leading circumstances 
in the Gospels are only a faithfid account of that 
ceremony. Jesus did not celebrate the Passover, 
and afterwards the Supper, but the Supper was the 
Passover. He did with his disciples exactly what 
every master of a family in Jerusalem was doing at 
the same hour with his household. It appears that 
the Jews ate the lamb and the unleavened bread 
and drank wine after a prescribed manner. It was 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 15 

the custom for the master of the feast to break the 
bread and to bless it, using this formula, which 
the Talmudists have preserved to us, " Blessed be 
Thou, O Lord, our God, who givest us the fruit 
of the vine," — and then to give the cup to all. 
Among the modern Jews, who in their dispersion 
retain the Passover, a hymn is also sung after this 
ceremony, specifying the twelve great works done 
by God for the deliverance of their fathers out of 
Egyi)t. 

But still it may be asked. Why did Jesus make 
expressions so extraordinary and emphatic as these 
— " This is my body which is broken for you. 
Take ; eat. This is my blood which is shed for 
you. Drink it " ? — I reply they are not extraor- 
dinary expressions from him. They were familiar 
in his mouth. He always taught by parables and 
symbols. It was the national way of teaching, and 
was largely used by him. Remember the readi- 
ness which he always showed to spiritualize every 
occurrence. He stopped and wrote on the sand. 
He admonished his disciples respecting the leaven 
of the Pharisees. He instructed the woman of Sa- 
maria respecting living water. He permitted him- 
self to be anointed, declaring that it was for his 
interment. He washed the feet of his disciples. 
These are admitted to be symbolical actions and 
expressions. Here, in like manner, he calls the 



16 SERMON ON 

bread his body, and bids the disciples eat. He 
had used the same expression repeatedly before. 
The reason why St. John does not repeat his words 
on this occasion, seems to be that he had reported 
a similar discourse of Jesus to the people of Caper- 
naum more at length already (John vi. 27-60.) 
He there tells the Jews, " Except ye eat the flesh 
of the Son of Man and drink his blood, ye have no 
life in you." And when the Jews on that occasion 
complained that they did not comprehend what he 
meant, he added for their better understanding, 
and as if for our understanding, that we might not 
think his body was to be actually eaten, that lie 
only meant we should live by his commandment. 
He closed his discourse with these explanatory ex- 
pressions : " The flesh profiteth nothing ; the words 
that I speak to you, they are spirit and they are 
life." 

Whilst 1 am upon this topic, I cannot help re- 
marking that it is not a little singular that we 
should have preserved this rite and insisted upon 
perpetuating one symbolical act of Christ whilst we 
have totally neglected aU others, — particularly one 
other which had at least an equal claim to our ob- 
servance. Jesus washed the feet of his discij^les 
and told them that, as he had washed their feet, 
they ought to wash one another's feet ; for he had 
given them an example, that they should do as he 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 17 

had done to them. I ask any person who believes 
the Supper to have been designed by Jesus to be 
commemorated forever, to go and read the account 
of it in the other Gospels, and then compare with 
it the account of this transaction in St. John, and 
tell me if this be not much more explicitly author- 
ized than the Supper. It only differs in this, that 
we have found the Supper used in New England 
and the washing of the feet not. But if we had 
found it an established rite in our churches, on 
grounds of mere authority, it would have been im- 
possible to have argued against it. That rite is 
used by the Church of Rome, and by the Sande- 
manians. It has been very properly dropped by 
other Christians. Why ? For two reasons : (1) 
because it was a local custom, and unsuitable in 
western countries ; and (2) because it was typical, 
and all understood that humility is the thing signi- 
fied. But the Passover was local too, and does not 
concern us, and its bread and wine were typical, 
and do not help us to understand the redemption 
which they signified. These views of the original 
account of the Lord's Supper lead me to esteem it 
an occasion ftdl of solemn and prophetic interest, 
but never intended by Jesus to be the foundation 
of a perpetual institution. 

It appears however in Christian history that the 
disciples had very early taken advantage of these 



18 SERMON ON 

impressive words of Christ to hold religious meet- 
ings, where they broke bread and drank wine as 
symbols. I look upon this fact as very natural in 
the circumstances of the Church. The disciples 
lived together ; they threw all their property into a 
common stock ; they were bound together by the 
memory of Christ, and nothing could be more nat- 
ural than that this eventful evening should be af- 
fectionately remembered by them ; that they, Jews 
like Jesus, should adopt his expressions and his 
types, and furthermore, that what was done with 
peculiar propriety by them, his personal friends, 
with less propriety should come to be extended to 
their companions also. In this way religious feasts 
grew up among the early Christians. They were 
readily adopted by the Jewish converts who were 
familiar with religious feasts, and also by the Pa- 
gan converts whose idolatrous worship had been 
made up of sacred festivals, and who very readily 
abused these to gross riot, as appears from the cen- 
sures of St. Paul. Many persons consider this 
fact, the observance of such a memorial feast by 
the early disciples, decisive of the question whether 
it ought to be observed by us. There was good 
reason for his personal fi'iends to remember their 
friend and repeat his words. It was only too prob- 
able that among the half converted Pagans and 
Jews, any rite, any form, would find favor, whUst 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 19 

yet unable to compreliend the spiritual character 
of Christianity. 

The circumstance, however, that St. Paul adopts 
these views, has seemed to many persons conclusive 
in favor of the institution. I am of opinion that it 
is wholly upon the epistle to the Corinthians, and 
not upon the Gospels, that the ordinance stands. 
Upon this matter of St. Paul's view of the Supper, 
a few important considerations must be stated. 

The end which he has in view, in the eleventh 
chapter of the first Epistle is not to enjom upon 
his friends to observe the Supper, but to censure 
their abuse of it. We quote the passage nowadays 
as if it enjoined attendance upon the Supper ; but 
he wrote it merely to chide them for drunkenness. 
To make their enormity plainer he goes back to 
the origin of this religious feast to show what sort 
of feast that was, out of which this riot of theirs 
came, and so relates the transactions of the Last 
Supper. " I have received of the Lord," he says, 
" that which I delivered to you." By this expres- 
sion it is often thought that a miraculous communi- 
cation is implied ; but certainly without good rea- 
son, if it is remembered that St. Paul was living 
in the lifetime of all the apostles who could give 
him an account of the transaction ; and it is con- 
trary to all reason to suppose that God shoidd 
work a miracle to convey information that could 



20 SERMON ON 

so easily be got by natural means. So that the im- 
port of the expression is that he had received the 
story of an eye-witness such as we also possess. 

But there is a material circumstance which dimin- 
ishes our confidence in the correctness of the Apos- 
tle's view; and that is, the observation that his 
mind had not escaped the prevalent error of the 
primitive church, the belief, namely, that the 
second coming of Christ would shortly occur, until 
which time, he tells them, this feast was to be kept. 
Elsewhere he tells them that at that time the world 
would be burnt up with fire, and a new government 
established, in which the Saints would sit on 
thrones ; so slow were the disciples during the life 
and after the ascension of Christ, to receive the 
idea wliich we receive, that Ms second coming was 
a spiritual kingdom, the dominion of his religion in 
the hearts of men, to be extended gradually over 
the whole world. In this manner we may see 
clearly enough how this ancient ordinance got its 
footing among the early Christians, and this single 
expectation of a speedy reajDpearance of a temporal 
Messiah, which kept its influence even over so spir- 
itual a man as St. Paul, would naturally tend to 
preserve the use of the rite when once established. 

We arrive then at this conclusion : first, that it 
does not appear, from a careful examination of the 
account of the Last Supper in the Evangelists, that 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 21 

it was designed by Jesus to be perpetual ; secondly, 
that it does not appeal' that the opinion of St. Paul, 
all things considered, ought to alter our opinion 
derived from the Evangelists. 

One general remark before quitting this branch 
of this subject. We ought to be cautious in taking 
even the best ascertained opinions and practices 
of the primitive church, for our own. If it could 
be satisfactorily shown that they esteemed it au- 
thorized and to be transmitted forever, that does 
not settle the question for us. We know how in- 
veterately they were attached to their Jewish preju- 
dices, and how often even the influence of Christ 
failed to enlarge their views. On every other sub- 
ject succeeding times have learned to form a judg- 
ment more in accordance with the spirit of Chris- 
tianity than was the practice of the early ages. 

II. But it is said : " Admit that the rite was not 
designed to be perpetual. What harm doth it ? 
Here it stands, generally accepted, under some 
form, by the Christian world, the undoubted occa- 
sion of much good ; is it not better it should re- 
main? " This is the question of expediency. 

I proceed to state a few objections that in my 
judgment lie against its use in its present form. 

1. If the view which I have taken of the history 
of the institution be correct, then the claim of au- 
thority should be dropped in administering it. You 



22 SERMON ON 

say, every time you celebrate the rite, that Jesus 
enjoined it ; and the whole* language you use con- 
veys that impression. But if you read the New 
Testament as I do, you do not believe he did. 

2. It has seemed to me that the use of this ordi- 
nance tends to produce confusion in our views of 
the relation of the soul to God. It is the old ob- 
jection to the doctrine of the Trinity, — that the 
true worship was transferred from God to Christ, 
or that such confusion was introduced into the soul 
that an undivided worship was given nowhere. Is 
not that the effect of the Lord's Supper ? I appeal 
now to the .convictions of communicants, and ask 
such persons whether they have not been occasion- 
ally conscious of a painful confusion of thought be- 
tween the worship due to God and the commemoration 
due to Christ. For the service does not stand uj^on 
the basis of a voluntary act, but is imposed by au- 
thority. It is an expression of gratitude to Christ, 
enjoined by Christ. There is an endeavor to ke^ 
Jesus in mind, whilst yet the prayers are addressed 
to God. I fear it is the effect of this ordinance to 
clothe Jesus with an authority which he never 
claimed and which distracts the mind of the wor- 
shipper. I know our opinions differ much respect- 
ing the nature and offices of Christ, and the degree 
of veneration to which he is entitled. I am so much 
a Unitarian as this : that I believe the human mind 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 23 

can admit but one God, and tliat every effort to 
pay religious homage to more than one being, goes 
to take away all right ideas. I appeal, brethren, to 
your individual experience. In the moment when 
you make the least petition to God, though it be 
but a silent wish that he may approve you, or add 
one moment to your life, — do you not, in the very 
act, necessarily exclude all other beings from your 
thought? In that act, the soul stands alone with 
God, and Jesus is no more present to your mind 
than your brother or your child. ' 

But is not Jesus called in Scripture the Media- 
tor? He is the mediator in that only sense in 
which possibly any being can mediate between God 
and man, — that is, an iustrudtor of man. He 
teaches us how to become like God» And <a true dis- 
ciple of Jesus will receive the light he gives most 
thankfully ; but the thanks he offers, and which an 
exalted being will accept, are not compliments, 
commemorations, but the use of that instruction. 

3. Passing other objections, I come to this, that 
the use of the elements, however suitable to the 
people and the modes of thought in the East, where 
it originated, is foreign and unsuited to affect us. 
Whatever long usage and strong association may 
have done in some individuals to deaden this repul- 
sion, I apprehend that their use is rather tolerated 
than loved by any of us. We are not accustomed 



24 SERMON ON 

to express our thoughts or emotions by symbolical 
actions. Most men find the bread and wine no aid 
to devotion, and to some it is a painful impediment. 
To eat bread is one thing ; to love the precepts 
of Christ and resolve to obey them is quite another. 
The statement of this objection leads me to say 
that I think this difficulty, wherever it is felt, to 
be entitled to the greatest weight. It is alone a 
sufficient objection to the ordinance. It is my own 
objection. This mode of commemorating Christ 
is not suitable to me. That is reason enough why 
I should abandon it. If I believed it was enjoined 
by Jesus on his disciples, and that he even contem- 
plated making permanent this mode of commemo- 
ration, every way agreeable to an Eastern mind, 
and yet on trial it was disagreeable to my own 
feelings, I should not adopt it. I should choose 
other ways which, as more effectual upon me, he 
would approve more. For I choose that my re- 
membrances of him should be pleasing, affecting, 
religious. I will love him as a glorified friend, af- 
ter the free way of friendship, and not pay him a 
stiff sign of respect, as men do those whom they 
fear. A passage read from his discourses, a mov- 
ing provocation to works like his, any act or meet- 
ing which tends to awaken a pure thought, a flow 
of love, an original design of virtue, I call a worthy, 
a true commemoration. 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 25 

4. The Importance ascribed to tliis particular or- 
dinance is not consistent with the spirit of Chris- 
tianity. The general object and effect of the or- 
dinance is unexcejitionable. It has been, and is, 
I doubt not, the occasion of indefinite good ; but 
an importance is given by Christians to it which 
never can belong to any form. My friends, the 
apostle well assures us that " the kingdom of God 
is not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace 
and joy in the Holy Ghost." I am not so foolish 
as to declaim against forms. Forms are as essen- 
tial as bodies ; but to exalt particular forms, to ad- 
here to one form a moment after it is outgrown, 
is unreasonable, and it is alien to the spirit of 
Christ. If I understand the distinction of Chris- 
tianity, the reason why it is to be preferred over 
aU other systems and is divine is this, that it is a 
moral system ; that it presents men with truths 
which are their own reason, and enjoins practices 
that are their own justification ; that if miracles 
may be said to have been its evidence to the first 
Christians, they are not its evidence to us, but the 
doctrines themselves; that every practice is Chris- 
tian which praises itself, and every practice un- 
christian which condemns itself. I am not engaged 
to Christianity by decent forms, or saving ordi- 
nances ; it is not usage, it is not what I do not under- 
stand, that binds me to it, — let these be the sandy 



26 SERMON ON 

foundations of falsehoods. What I revere and 
obey in it is its reality, its boundless charity, its 
deep interior life, the rest it gives to mind, the echo 
it returns to my thoughts, the perfect accord it 
makes with my reason through all its representation 
of God and His Providence ; and the persuasion 
and courage that come out thence to lead me up- 
ward and onward. Freedom is the essence of this 
faith. It has for its object simply to make men 
good and wise. Its institutions then should be as 
flexible as the wants of men. That form out of 
which the life and suitableness have departed, 
should be as worthless in its eyes as the dead leaves 
that are falling around us. 

And therefore, although for the satisfaction of 
others I have labored to show by the history that 
this rite was not intended to be perpetual ; although 
I have gone back to weigh the expressions of Paul, 
I feel that here is the true point of view. In the 
midst of considerations as to what Paul thought, 
and why he so thought, I cannot help feeling that 
it is time misspent to argue to or from his convic- 
tions, or those of Luke and John, respecting any 
form. I seem to lose the substance in seeking the 
shadow. That for which Paul lived and died so 
gloriously ; that for which Jesus gave himself to be 
crucified ; the end that animated the thousand 
martyrs and heroes who have followed his steps, 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 27 

was to redeem us from a formal religion, and teach 
us to seek our well-being in the formation of the 
soul. The whole world was full of idols and ordi- 
nances. The Jewish was a religion of forms ; it 
was all body, it had no life, and the Almighty God 
was pleased to qualify and send forth a man to 
teach men that they must serve him with the heart ; 
that only that life was religious which was thor- 
oughly good ; that sacrifice was smoke, and forms 
were shadows. This man lived and died true to 
this purpose ; and now, with his blessed word and 
life before us, Christians must contend that it is a 
matter of vital importance, — really a duty, to com- 
memorate him by a certain form, whether that form 
be agreeable to their understandings or not. Is 
not this to make vain the gift of God ? Is not this 
to turn back the hand on the dial ? Is not this to 
make men, — to make ourselves, — forget that not 
forms, but duties; not names, but righteousness 
and love are enjoined ; and that in the eye of God 
there is no other measure of the value of any one 
form than the measure of its use ? 

There remain some practical objections to the 
ordinance, into which I shall not now enter. There 
is one on which I had intended to say a few words ; 
I mean the unfavorable relation in which it places 
that numerous class of persons who abstain from 
it merely from disinclination to the rite. 



28 SERMON ON 

Influenced by these considerations, I have pro- 
posed to the brethren of the Church to drop the 
use of the elements and the claim of authority in 
the administration of this ordinance, and have sug- 
gested a mode in which a meeting for the same 
purpose might be held, free of objection. 

My brethren have considered my views with pa- 
tience and candor, and have recommended, unani- 
mously, an adherence to the present form. I have 
therefore been compelled to consider whether it be- 
comes me to administer it. I am clearly of opin- 
ion I ought not. This discourse has already been 
so far extended that I can only say that the reason 
of my determination is shortly this : — It is my 
desire, in the office of a Christian minister, to do 
nothing which I cannot do with my whole heart. 
Having said this, I have said aU. I have no hos- 
tility to this institution ; I am only stating my 
want of sympathy with it. Neither should I ever 
have obtruded this opinion upon other people, had 
I not been called by my office to administer it. 
That is the end of my oj)position, that I am not in- 
terested in it. I am content that it stand to the end 
of the world, if it please men and please Heaven, 
and I shall rejoice in all the good it produces. 

As it is the prevailing opinion and feeling in our 
religious community, that it is an indispensable 
part of the pastoral office to administer this ordi- 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 29 

nance, I am about to resign into your hands that 
office which j'^ou have confided to me. It has many 
duties for wliich I am feebly qualified. It has 
some which it will always be my delight to dis- 
charge according to my ability, wherever I exist. 
And whilst the recollection of its claims oppresses 
me with a sense of my unworthiness, I am consoled 
by the hope that no time and no change can de- 
prive me of the satisfaction of pursuing and exer- 
cising its highest functions. 



HISTORICAL DISCOURSE, 

AT CONCORD, ON THE SECOND CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF THE 
INCORrORATION OF THE TOWN, SEPTEMBER 12, 1S35. 



HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 



Fellow Citizens: 

The town of Concord begins, this day, the third 
century of its history. By a common consent, the 
j)eople of New England, for a few years past, as the 
second centennial anniversary of each of its early 
settlements arrived, have seen fit to observe the day. 
You have thought it becoming to commemorate the 
planting of the first inland town. The sentiment 
is just, and the practice is wise. Our ears shall not 
be deaf to the voice of time. We will review the 
deeds of our fathers, and pass that just verdict on 
them we expect from posterity on our own. 

And yet, in the eternity of nature, how recent 
our antiquities appear ! The imagination is impa- 
tient of a cycle so short. Who can tell how many 
thousand years, every day, the clouds have shaded 
these fields with their purple awning ? The river, 
by whose banks most of us were born, every winter, 
for ages, has spread its crust of ice over the great 
meadows which, in ages, it had formed. But the 

VOL. XI. 3 



34 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

little society of men who now, for a few years, fish 
in this river, plough the fields it washes, mow the 
grass and reap the corn, shortly shall hurry from its 
banks as did their forefathers. " Man's life," said 
the Witan to the Saxon king, " is the sparrow that 
enters at a window, flutters round the house, and 
flies out at another, and none knoweth whence 
he came, or whither he goes." The more reason 
that we should give to our being what permanence 
we can ; — that we should recall the Past, and ex- 
pect the Future. 

Yet the race survives whilst the individual dies. 
In the country, without any interference of the law, 
the agricultural life favors the permanence of fam- 
ilies. Here are still around me the lineal descend- 
ants of the first settlers of this town. Here is Blood, 
Flint, Willard, Meriam, Wood, Hosmer, Barrett, 
Wheeler, Jones, Brown, Buttrick, Brooks, Stow, 
Hoar, Heywood, Hunt, Miles, — the names of the 
inhabitants for the first thirty years ; and the fam- 
ily is in many cases represented, when the name is 
not. If the name of Bulkeley is wanting, the honor 
you have done me this day, in making me your 
organ, testifies your persevering kindness to his 
blood. 

I shall not be expected, on this occasion, to re- 
peat the details of that oppression which drove our 
fathers out hither. Yet the town of Concord was 



AT CONCORD. 35 

settled by a party of non-conformists, immediately 
from Great Britain. The best friend the Massachu- 
setts colony had, though much against his will, was 
Archbishop Laud in England. In consequence of 
his famous proclamation setting up certain novelties 
in the rites of public worship, fifty godly ministers 
were suspended for contumacy, in the course of two 
years and a half. Hindered from speaking, some 
of these dared to print the reasons of their dissent, 
and were punished with imprisonment or mutila- 
tion.^ This severity brought some of the best men 
in England to overcome that natural repugnance to 
emigration which holds the serious and moderate of 
every nation to their own soil. Among the silenced 
clergymen was a distinguished minister of Wood- 
hill, in Bedfordshire, Rev. Peter Bulkeley, descend- 
ed from a noble family, honored for his own virtues, 
his learning and gifts as a preacher, and adding 
to his influence the weight of a large estate.^ Per- 
secution . readily knits friendship between its vic- 
tims. Mr. Bulkeley having turned his estate into 
money and set his face towards New England, was 
easily able to persuade a good number of planters 
to join him. They arrived in Boston in 1634.^ 
Probably there had been a previous correspondence 

1 Neal's History of New England, vol. i. p. 132. 

2 Neal's History of New England, vol. i. p. 321, 
2 Shattuck's History of Concord, p. 158. 



36 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

with Governor Winthrop, and an agreement tliat 
they should settle at Musketaquid. With them 
joined Mr. Simon Willard, a merchant from Kent 
in England. They petitioned the General Court 
for a grant of a township, and on the 2d of Septem- 
ber, 1635, corresponding in New Style to 12th Sep- 
tember, two hundred years ago this day, leave to 
begin a plantation at Musketaquid was given to 
Peter Bidkeley, Simon Willard, and about twelve 
families more. A month later, Rev. John Jones 
and a large number of settlers destined for the new 
town arrived in Boston.^ 

The grant of the General Court was but a prelim- 
inary step. The green meadows of Musketaquid or 
Grassy Brook were far up in the woods, not to be 
reached without a painful and dangerous journey 
through an uninterrupted wilderness. They could 
cross the Massachusetts or Charles river, by the 
ferry at Newtown ; they could go up the river as far 
as Watertown. But the Indian paths leading up 
and down the country were a foot broad. They 
must then plunge into the thicket, and with their 
axes cut a road for their teams, with their women 
and children and their household stuff, forced to 
make long circuits too, to avoid hills and swamps. 
Edward Johnson of Woburn has described in an 
affecting narrative their labors by the way. " Some- 
^ Shattuck, p. 5. 



AT CONCORD. 37 

times passing through thickets where their hands 
are forced to make way for their bodies' passage, 
and their feet clambering over the crossed trees, 
which when they missed, they sunk into an uncertain 
bottom in water, and wade up to their knees, tum- 
bling sometimes higher, sometimes lower. At the 
end of this, they meet a scorching plain, yet not so 
plain but that the ragged bushes scratch their legs 
foully, even to wearing their stockings to their bare 
skin in two or three hours. Some of them, having 
no leggins, have had the blood trickle down at every 
step. And in time of summer, the sun casts such a 
reflecting heat from the sweet fern, whose scent is 
very strong, that some nearly fainted." They slept 
on the rocks, wherever the night found them. Much 
time was lost in travelling they knew not whither, 
when the sun was hidden by clouds ; for " their com- 
pass miscarried in crowding through the bushes," 
and the Indian paths, once lost, they did not easily 
find. 

Johnson, relating undoubtedly what he had him- 
self heard from the pilgrims, intimates that they 
consumed many days in exploring the country, to 
select the best place for the town. Their first tem- 
porary accommodation was rude enough. " After 
they have found a place of abode, they burrow 
themselves in the earth for their first shelter, under a 
hill-side, and casting the soil aloft upon timbers, they 



38 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

make a fire against the earth, at the highest side. 
And thus these poor servants of Christ provide shel- 
ter for themselves, their wives and little ones, keep- 
ing off the short showers from their lodgings, but 
the long rains penetrate through, to their great dis- 
turbance in the night season. Yet in these poor 
wigwams they sing psalms, pray and praise their 
God, till they can provide them houses, which they 
could not ordinarily, till the earth, by the Lord's 
blessing, brought forth bread to feed them. This 
they attain with sore tTavail, every one that can lift 
a hoe to strike into the earth, standing stoutly to 
his labors, and tearing up the roots and bushes from 
the ground, which, the first year, yielded them a 
lean crop, till the sod of the earth was rotten, and 
therefore they were forced to cut their bread very 
thin for a long season. But the Lord is pleased to 
provide for them great store of fish in the spring 
time, and especially, alewives, about the bigness of 
a herring." ^ These served them also for manure. 
For flesh, they looked not for any, in those times, 
unless they coidd barter with the Indians for veni- 
son and raccoons. " Indian corn, even the coarsest, 
made as pleasant meal as rice." ^ All kinds of gar- 
den fruits grew well, " and let no man," writes our 

1 Johnson's Wondei- -Working Providence, chap. xxxv. I 
have abridged and slightly altered some sentences. 

2 Mourt, Beginning of Plymouth, 1621, p. 60. 



AT CONCORD. 39 

pious chronicler, in another place, " make a jest of 
pumpkins, for with this fruit the Lord was pleased 
to feed his people until their corn and cattle were 
increased." ^ 

The great cost of cattle, and the sickening of 
their cattle upon such wild fodder as was never cut 
before ; the loss of their sheep and swine by wolves ; 
the sufferings of the people in the great snows and 
cold soon following ; and the fear of the Pequots ; 
are the other disasters enumerated by the historian. 

The hardships of the journey and of the first en- 
campment, are certainly related by their contempo- 
rary with some air of romance, yet they can scarcely 
be exaggerated. A march of a number of families 
with their stuff, through twenty miles of unknown 
forest, from a little rising town that had not much 
to spare, to an Indian town in the wilderness that 
had nothing, must be laborious to all, and for those 
who were new to the country and bred in softness, 
a formidable adventure. But the pilgrims had the 
preparation of an armed mind, better than any hard- 
ihood of body. And the rough welcome which the 
new land gave them was a fit introduction to the 
life they must lead in it. 

But what was their reception at Musketaquid ? 
This was an old village of the Massachusetts In- 
dians. Tahattawan, the Sachem, with Waban his 
1 Johnson, p. 56, 



40 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

son-in-law, lived near Nashawtuck, now Lee's Hill.^ 
Their tribe, once numerous, the epidemic had re- 
duced. Here they planted, hunted and fished. 
The moose was still trotting in the country, and of 
his sinews they made their bowstring. Of the pith 
elder, that still grows beside our brooks, they made 
their arrow. Of the Indian Hemp they spun their 
nets and lines for summer angling, and, in winter, 
they sat around holes in the ice, catching salmon, 
pickerel, breams and perch, with which our river 
abounded. 2 Their physical powers, as our fathers 
found them, and before yet the English alcohol had 
proved more fatal to them than the English sword, 
astonished the white men.^ Their sight was so ex- 
cellent, that, standing on the sea shore, they often 
told of the coming of a ship at sea, sooner by one 
hour, yea, two hours sail, than any Englishman that 
stood by, on purpose to look out.* Roger Williams 
affirms that he has known them run between eighty 
and a hundred miles in a summer's day, and back 
again within two days. A little pounded parched 
corn or no-cake sufficed them on the march. To 
his bodily perfection, the wild man added some 
noble traits of character. He was open as a child 

1 Shattuck, p. 3. 

2 Josselyii's Voyages to Netv England, 1638. 

2 Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, vol. i. chap. 6. 
* Thomas Morton ; New England Canaan, p. 47- 



AT CONCORD. 41 

to kindness and justice. Many instances of his hu- 
manity were known to the Englishmen who suffered 
in the woods from sickness or cokl. " When you 
came over the morning waters," said one of the 
Sachems, " we took you into our arms. We fed 
you with our best meat. Never went white man 
cold and hungry from Indian wigwam." 

The faithful dealing and brave good-will, which, 
during the life of the friendly Massasoit, they uni- 
formly experienced at Plymouth and at Boston, 
went to their hearts. So that the peace was made, 
and the ear of the savage already secured, before 
the pilgrims arrived at his seat of Musketaquid, to 
treat with him for his lands. 

It is said that the covenant made with the In- 
dians by Mr. Bulkeley and Major Willard, was 
made under a great oak, formerly standing near 
the site of the Middlesex Hotel.^ Our Records af- 
firm that Squaw Sachem, Tahattawan, and Nimrod 
did sell a tract of six miles square to the English, 
receiving for the same, some fathoms of Wampum- 
peag, hatchets, hoes, knives, cotton cloth and shirts. 
Wibbacowet, the husband of Squaw Sachem, re- 
ceived a suit of cloth, a hat, a white linen band, 
shoes, stockings and a great coat ; and, in conclusion, 
the said Indians declared themselves satisfied, and 
told the Englishmen they were welcome. And 
1 Shattuck, p. 6. 



42 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

after the bargain was concluded, Mr. Simon Wil- 
lard, pointing to the four corners of the world, de- 
clared that they had bought three miles from that 
place, east, west, north and south.^ 

The Puritans, to keep the remembrance of their 
unity one with another, and of their peaceful com- 
pact with the Indians, named their forest settlement 
CONCORD. They proceeded to build, under the 
shelter of the hill that extends for a mile along the 
north side of the Boston road, their first dwellings. 
The labors of a new plantation were paid by its ex- 
citements. I seem to see them, with their pious 
pastor, addressing themselves to the work of clear- 
ing the land. Natives of another hemisphere, they 
beheld, with curiosity, all the pleasing features of 
the American forest. The landscape before them 
was fair, if it was strange and rude. The little 
flower which at this season stars our woods and 
roadsides with its profuse blooms, might attract 
even eyes as stern as theirs with its humble beauty. 
The useful pine lifted its cones into the frosty air. 
The maple which is already making the forest gay 
with its orange hues, reddened over those houseless 
men. The majestic summits of Wachusett and 
Monadnoc towering in the horizon, invited the steps 
of adventure westward. 

* Depositions taken in 1684, and copied in the first volume 
of the Town Records. 



AT CONCORD. 43 

As the season grew later, they felt Its inconven- 
iences. '' Many were forced to go barefoot and 
bareleg, and some in time of frost and snow, yet 
were they more healthy than now they are." ^ The 
land was low but healthy ; and if, in common with 
all the settlements, they found the air of America 
very cold, they might say with Higginson, after his 
description of the other elements, that " New Eng- 
land may boast of the element of fire, more than all 
the rest ; for all Europe is not able to afford to make 
so great fires as New England. A poor servant, 
that is to possess but fifty acres, may afford to give 
more wood for fire as good as the world yields, than 
many noblemen in England." ^ Many were their 
wants, but more their privileges. The light strug- 
gled in through windows of oiled paper,^ but they 
read the word of God by it. They were fain to 
make use of their knees for a table, but their limbs 
were their own. Hard labor and spare diet they 
had, and off wooden trenchers, but they had peace 
and freedom, and the wailing of the tempest in the 
woods sounded kindlier in their ear than the smooth 
voice of the prelates, at home, in England. " There 
is no people," said their pastor to his little flock of 
exiles, "but will strive to excel in something. 

^ Johnson. 

2 New England's Plantation. 

8 E. W.'s Letter in Mourt, 1621. 



44 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

What can we excel in, if not in holiness ? If we 
look to number, we are the fewest ; if to strength, 
we are the weakest ; if to wealth and riches, we are 
the poorest of all the people of God through the 
whole world. We cannot excel nor so much as 
equal other people in these things ; and if we come 
short in grace and holiness too, we are the most des- 
picable people under heaven. Strive we, there- 
fore, herein to excel, and suffer not this crown to be 
taken away from us." ^ The sermon fell into good 
and tender hearts ; the people conspired with their 
teacher. Their religion was sweetness and peace 
amidst toil and tears. And, as we are informed, 
" the edge of their appetite was greater to spiritual 
duties at their first coming, in time of wants, than 
afterwards." 

The original Town Records, for the first thirty- 
years, are lost. We have records of marriages 
and deaths, beginning nineteen years after the set- 
tlement ; and copies of some of the doings of the 
town in regard to territory, of the same date. But 
the original distribution of the land, or an account 
of the principles on which it was divided, are not 
preserved. Agreeably to the custom of the times, 
a large portion was reserved to the public, and it 
appears from a petition of some new comers, in 

^ Peter Bulkeley's Gospel Covenant; Preached at Concord 
in N. E. 2d Edition ; London, 1651, p. 432. 



AT CONCORD. 45 

1643, that a part had been divided among the first 
settlers without price, on the single condition of 
improving it.^ Other portions seem to have been 
successively divided off and granted to individuals, 
at the rate of sixpence or a shilling an acre. But, 
in the first years, the land would not pay the neces- 
sary public charges, and they seem to have fallen 
heavily on the few wealthy planters. Mr. Bulkeley, 
by his generosity, spent his estate, and, doubtless in 
consideration of his charges, the General Court, in 
1639, granted him 300 acres towards Cambridge ; 
and to Mr. Spencer, probably for the like reason, 
300 acres by the Alewife River. In 1638, 1200 
acres were granted to Governor Winthrop, and 1000 
to Thomas Dudley of the lands adjacent to the town, 
and Governor Winthrop selected as a building spot 
the land near the house of Capt. Humphrey Hunt.^ 
The first record now remaining is that of a reserva- 
tion of land for the minister, and the appropriation 
of new lands as commons or pastures to some poor 
men. At the same date, in 1654, the town having 
divided itself into three districts, called the North, 
South and East quarters. Ordered, " that the North 
quarter are to keep and maintain all their highways 
and bridges over the great river, in their quarter, 
and, in respect of the greatness of their charge there- 

^ See the Petition in Sliattuck, p. 14. 
2 Sliattuck, p. 14. 



46 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

about, and in regard of the ease of the East quarter 
above the rest, in their liighwaj'^s, they are to allow 
the North quarter £3." ^ 

Fellow Citizens, this first recorded political act 
of our fathers, this tax assessed on its inhabitants 
by a town, is the most important event in their 
civil history, implying, as it does, the exercise of a 
sovereign power, and connected with all the immu- 
nities and powers of a corporate town in Massachu- 
setts. The greater speed and success that distin- 
guish the planting of the human race in this country, 
over all other plantations in history, owe them- 
selves mainly to the new subdivisions of the State 
into small corporations of land and power. It is 
vain to look for the inventor. No man made them. 
Each of the parts of that perfect structure grew 
out of the necessities of an instant occasion. The 
germ was formed in England. The charter gave 
to the freemen of the Company of Massachusetts 
Bay, the election of the Governor and Council of 
Assistants. It moreover gave them the power of 
prescribing the manner in which freemen should 
be elected ; and ordered that all fundamental laws 
should be enacted by the freemen of the colony. 
But the Comj)any removed to New England ; more 
than one hundred freemen were admitted the first 
year, and it was found mconvenient to assemble 
^ Tovvu ilecords ; Siiattiick, p. 34. 



AT CONCORD. 47 

them all.^ And when, presently, the design of the 
colony began to fulfill itself, by the settlement of 
new plantations in the vicinity of Boston, and par- 
ties, with grants of land, straggled into the comitry 
to truck with the Indians and to clear the land for 
their own benefit, the Governor and freemen in 
Boston found it neither desirable nor possible to 
control the trade and practices of these farmers. 
What could the body of freemen, meeting four 
times a year, at Boston, do for the daily wants of 
the planters at Musketaquid ? The wolf was to be 
killed ; the Indian to be watched and resisted ; 
wells to be dug ; the forest to be felled ; pastures to 
be cleared ; corn to be raised ; roads to be cut ; 
town and farm lines to be run. These things must 
be done, govern who might. The nature of man 
and his condition in the world, for the first time 
within the period of certain history, controlled the 
formation of the State. The necessity of the colo- 
nists wrote the law. Their wants, their poverty, 
their manifest convenience made them bold to ask 
of the Governor and of the General Court, immu- 
nities, and, to certain purposes, sovereign powers. 
The townsmen's words were heard and weighed, for 
all knew that it was a petitioner that could not be 
slighted ; it was the river, or the winter, or famine, 
or the Pequots, that spoke through them to the Gov- 
1 Bancroft ; Hklonj of the United Stales, vol. i. p. 389. 



4.8 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

ernor and Council of Massachusetts Bay. In- 
structed by necessity, each little company organized 
itself after the pattern of the larger town, by ap- 
j)ointing its constable, and other petty half -military 
officers. As early as 1633,^ the office of towns- 
man or selectman appears, who seems fii'st to have 
been appointed by the General Court, as here, at 
Concord, in 1639. In 1635, the Court say, " whereas 
particular towns have many things which concern 
only themselves, it is Ordered, that the freemen of 
every town shall have power to dispose of their own 
lands, and woods, and choose their own particular 
officers." ^ This pointed chiefly at the office of con- 
stable, but they soon chose their own selectmen, 
and very early assessed taxes ; a power at first re- 
sisted,^ but speedily confirmed to them. 

Meantime, to this paramount necessity, a milder 
and more pleasing influence was joined. I esteem 
it the happiness of this country, that its settlers, 
whilst they were exploring their granted and natural 
rights and determining the power of the magistrate, 
were united by personal affection. Members of a 
church before whose searching covenant all rank 
was abolished, they stood in awe of each other, as 
religious men. They bore to John Winthrop, the 

^ Savage's Winthrop, vol. i. p. 114. 

2 Colony Records, vol. i. 

2 See Hutcliiiison's Collection^ p. 287. 



AT CONCORD. 49 

Governor, a grave but hearty kindness. For the 
first time, men examined the powers of the chief 
whom they loved and revered. For the first time, 
the ideal social compact was real. The bands of 
love and reverence held fast the little state, whilst 
they untied the great cords of authority to examine 
their soundness and learn on what wheels they ran. 
They were to settle the internal constitution of the 
towns, and, at the same time, their power in the 
commonwealth. The Governor conspires with them 
in limiting his claims to their obedience, and values 
nuich more their love than his chartered authority. 
The disputes between that forbearing man and the 
deputies are like the quarrels of girls, so much do 
they turn upon complaints of unkindness, and end 
in such loving reconciliations. It was on doubts 
concerning their own power, that, in 1634, a com- 
mittee repaired to him for counsel, and he advised, 
seeing the freemen were grown so numerous, to send 
deputies from every town once in a year to revise 
the laws and to assess all monies.^ And the Gen- 
eral Court, thus constituted, only needed to go into 
separate session from the council, as they did in 
1644,2 ^Q become essentially the same assembly they 
are this day. 

1 Winthrop's Journal, voL i. pp. 128, 129, and the Editor's 
Note. 

2 Winthrop's Journal, vol. ii. p. IGO. 

VOL. XI. 4 



60 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

By this course of events, Concord and the other 
plantations fonnd themselves separate and inde- 
pendent of Boston, with certain rights of their own, 
which, what they were, time alone could fully de- 
termine ; enjoying, at the same time, a strict and 
loving fellowship mth Boston, and sure of advice 
and aid, on every emergency. Their powers were 
speedily settled by obvious convenience, and the 
towns learned to exercise a sovereignty in the lay- 
ing of taxes ; in the choice of their deputy to the 
house of representatives ; in the disposal of the 
town lands ; in the care of public worshij), the 
school and the poor ; and, what seemed of at least 
equal imjjortance, to exercise the right of express- 
ing an opinion on every question before the coun- 
try. In a town-meeting, the great secret of politi- 
cal science was uncovered, and the problem solved, 
how to give every individual his fair weight in the 
government, without any disorder from numbers. 
In a town-meeting, the roots of society were reached. 
Here the rich gave counsel, but the poor also ; and 
moreover, the just and the unjust. He is ill-in- 
formed who expects, on running down the town 
records for two hundred years, to find a church of 
saints, a metropolis of patriots, enacting wholesome 
and creditable laws. The constitution of the towns 
forbid it. In this open democracy, every opinion 
had utterance; every objection, every fact, every 



AT CONCORD. 51 

acre of land, every bushel of rye, its entire weight. 
The moderator was the passive mouth-piece j and 
the vote of the town, like the vane on the tm-ret 
overhead, free for every wind to turn, and always 
turned by the last and strongest breath. In these 
assemblies, the public weal, the call of interest, 
duty, religion, were heard ; and every local feeling, 
every private grudge, every suggestion of petulance 
and ignorance, were not less faithfully produced. 
Wrath and love came up to town-meeting in com- 
pany. By tlie law of 1641, every man, — freeman 
or not, — inhabitant or not, — might introduce any 
business into a public meeting. Not a complaint 
occurs in all the volumes of our Records, of any in- 
habitant being hmdered from speaking, or suffer- 
ing from any violence or usurpation of any class. 
The negative ballot of a ten shilling freeholder was 
as fatal as that of the honored owner of Blood's 
Farms or WUlard's Purchase. A man felt him- 
self at liberty to exhibit, at town-meeting, feelings 
and actions that he would have been ashamed of 
anywhere but amongst his neighbors. Individual 
protests are frequent. Peter Wright [1705] de- 
sired his dissent might be recorded from the town's 
grant to John Shepard.^ In 1795, several town- 
meetings are called, upon the compensation to be 
made to a few proprietors for laud taken in mak- 
^ Concord Town Records. 



52 insTomcAL discourse 

ing a bridle road ; and one of them demanding 
large damages, many offers were made liim in town- 
meeting, and refused ; " which the town thought 
very unreasonable." The matters there debated 
are such as to invite very small considerations. 
The ill-spelled pages of the town records contain 
the result. I shall be excused for confessing that 
I have set a value upon any symptom of meanness 
and private pique which I have met with in these 
antique books, as proof that justice was done ; that 
if the results of our history are approved as wise 
and good, it was yet a free strife ; if the good coun- 
sel prevailed, the sneaking counsel did not fail to be 
suggested ; freedom and virtue, if they triumphed, 
trivmii^hed in a fair field. And so be it an everlast- 
ing testimony for them, and so much ground of as- 
surance of man's capacity for self-government. 

It is the consequence of this institution that not 
a school-house, a public pew, a bridge, a pound, a 
mill-dam, hath been set up, or pulled down, or al- 
tered, or bought, or sold, without the whole popida- 
tion of this town having a voice in the affair. A 
general contentment is the result. And the peo- 
ple truly feel that they are lords of the soil. In 
every winding road, in every stone fence, in the 
smokes of the poor-house chimney, in the clock on 
the church, they read their own power, and con- 
sider, at leisure, the wisdom and error of their 
judgments. 



AT CONCORD. 53 

The Britisli government has recently presented 
to the several public libraries of this country, cop- 
ies of the splendid edition of the Domesday Book, 
and other ancient public Records of England. I 
cannot but think that it would be a suitable ac- 
knowledgment of this national munificence, if the 
records of one of our towns, — of this town, for 
example, — should be printed, and presented to the 
governments of Europe ; to the English nation, as 
a thank-offering, and as a certificate of the prog- 
ress of the Saxon race ; to the continental nations 
as a lesson of humanity and love. Tell them, the 
Union has twenty-four States, and Massachusetts 
is one. Tell them, Massachusetts has three hun- 
dred towns, and Concord is one ; that in Concord 
are five hundred rateable polls, and every one has 
an equal vote. 

About ten years after the planting of Concord, 
efforts began to be made to civilize the Indians, 
and " to win them to the knowledge of the true 
God." This indeed, in so many words, is expressed 
in the charter of the Colony as one of its ends ; 
and this design is named first in the printed " Con- 
siderations," ^ that inclined Hampden, and deter- 
mined Winthrop and his friends, to come hither. 
The interest of the Puritans in the natives was 
heightened by a suspicion at that time prevailing. 
^ Hutchinson's Collection, p. 27. 



54 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

that these were the lost ten tribes of Israel. The 
man of the woods might well draw on himself the 
compassion of the planters. His erect and perfect 
form, though disclosing some irregular virtues, was 
found joined to a dwindled soul. Master of all 
sorts of wood-craft, he seemed a part of the forest 
and the lake, and the secret of his amazing skill 
seemed to be that he partook of the nature and 
fierce instincts of the beasts he slew. Those who 
dwelled by ponds and rivers had some tincture of 
civility, but the hunters of the tribe were found in- 
tractable at catechism. Thomas Hooker antici- 
pated the opinion of Humboldt, and called them 
" the ruins of mankind." 

Early efforts were made to instruct them, in 
which Mr. Bidkeley, Mr. Flint, and Capt. Willard, 
took an active part. In 1644, Squaw Sachem, the 
widow of Nanepashemet, the great Sachem of Con- 
cord and Mistic, with two sachems of Wachusett, 
made a formal submission to the English govern- 
ment, and intimated their desire, " as opportunity 
served, and the English lived among them, to learn 
to read God's word, and know God aright; " and the 
General Court acted on their request.^ John Eliot, 
in October, 1646, preached his first sermon in the 
Indian language at Noonantum ; Waban, Tahatta- 
wan, and their sannaps, going thither from Con- 
1 Shattuek, p. 20. 



AT CONCORD. 55 

cord to hear him. There under the rubbish and 
ruins of barbarous life, the human heart heard the 
voice of love, and awoke as from a sleep. The 
questions which the Indians put betray their rea- 
son and their ignorance. " Can Jesus Christ un- 
derstand prayers in the Indian language ? " " If 
a man be wise, and his sachem weak, must he obey 
him ? " At a meeting which Eliot gave to the 
squaws apart, the wife of Wampooas propounded 
the question, " Whether do I pray when my hus- 
band prays, if I speak nothing as he doth, yet if 
I like what he saith ? " — " which questions were 
accounted of by some, as part of the whitenings of 
the harvest toward." ^ Tahattawan, our Concord 
sachem, called his Indians together, and bid them 
not oppose the courses which the English were tak- 
ing for their good ; for, said he, all the time you 
have lived after the Indian fashion, under the power 
of the higher sachems, what did they care for you ? 
They took away your skins, your kettles and your 
wampum, at their own pleasure, and this was all 
they regarded. But you may see the English mind 
no such things, but only seek your welfare, and 
instead of taking away, are ready to give to you. 
Tahattawan and his son-in-law Waban, besought 
Eliot to come and preach to them at Concord, and 
here they entered, by his assistance, into an agree- 
1 Shepard's Clear Sunshine of the Gospel, Loudon, 1G18. 



56 niSTOPJCAL DISCOURSE 

ment to twenty-nine rules, all breatliiug a desire to 
conform themselves to English customs.^ They 
requested to have a town given them within the 
bounds of Concord, near unto the English. When 
this question was propounded by Tahattawan, he 
was asked, why he desired a town so near, when 
there was more room for them up in the country? 
The Sachem replied, that he knew if the Indians 
dwelt far from the English, they would not so much 
care to pray, nor could they be so ready to hear the 
word of God, but would be, all one, Indians still ; 
but dwelling near the English, he hoped it might 
be otherwise with them then. We, who see in the 
squalid remnants of the twenty tribes of Massachu- 
setts, the final failure of this benevolent enterprise, 
can hardly learn without emotion, the earnestness 
with which the most sensible individuals of the 
copper race held on to the new hope they had con- 
ceived, of being elevated to equality with their civ- 
ilized brother. It is piteous to see their self-dis- 
trust in their request to remain near the English, 
and their unanimous entreaty to Capt. Willard, to 
be their Recorder, being very solicitous that what 
they did agree upon might be faithfully kept with- 
out alteration. It was remarkable that the preach- 
ing was not wholly new to them. " Their forefa- 
thers," the Indians told Eliot, " did know God, but 
^ See them in Shattuck, p. 22. 



AT CONCORD. 57 

after this, they fell into a deep sleep, and when they 
did awake, they quite forgot him." ^ 

At the instance of Eliot, in 1651, their desire was 
granted by the General Court, and Nashobah, lying 
near Nagog pond, now partly in Littleton, partly in 
Acton, became an Indian town, where a Christian 
worship was established under an Indian ruler and 
teacher.^ Wilson relates, that, at their meetings, 
" the Indians sung a psalm, made Indian by Eliot, 
in one of our ordinary English tunes, melodiously." ^ 
Such was, for half a centurj^, the success of the gen- 
eral enterprise, that, in 1G76, there were five hun- 
dred and sixty-seven praying Indians, and in 1G89, 
twenty-four Indian preachers, and eighteen assem- 
blies. 

Meantime, Concord increased in territory and 
population. The lands were di^dded ; highways 
were cut from farm to farm, and from this town to 
Boston. A military company had been organized 
in 1636. The Pequots, the terror of the farmer, 
were exterminated in 1637. Capt. Underhill, in 
1638, declared, that " the new plantations of Ded- 
ham and Concord do afford large accommodation, 
and will contain abundance of people." ^ In 1639, 
our first selectmen, Mr. Flint, Lt. Willard, and 
Richard Griffin were appointed.^ And, in 1640, 

^ Shepard, p. 9. * News from America, p. 22. 

2 Shattuck, p. 27. 5 Sliattuck, p. 19. 

3 Wilson's Letter, 1G51. 



68 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

when tlie colony rate was <£1200, Concord was as- 
sessed <£50.i The country already began to yield 
more than was consumed by the inhabitants.^ The 
very great immigration from England made the 
lands more valuable every year, and supplied a mar- 
ket for the produce. In 1643, the colony was so 
numerous, that it became expedient to divide it into 
four counties, Concord being included in Middlesex.^ 
In 1644, the town contained sixty families. 

But, in 1640, all immigration ceased, and the 
country produce and farm-stock depreciated.^ Other 
difficulties accrued. The fish, which had been the 
abundant manure of the settlers, was found to in- 
jure the land.^ The river, at this period, seems to 
have caused some distress now by its overflow, now 
by its drought.*^ A cold and wet summer blighted 
the corn ; enormous flocks of pigeons beat down and 
eat up all sorts of English grain ; and the crops 
suffered much from mice.*" New plantations and 
better land had been opened, far and near ; and 
whilst many of the colonists at Boston thought to 

^ Winthrop, vol. ii. p. 2. 

^ Hutchinson, vol. i. p. 90. 

8 Hutchinson, vol. i. p. 112. 

4 Winthrop, vol. ii. p. 21. 

^ Hutchinson, vol. i. p. 94. 

^ Bulkeley's Gospel Covenant, p. 209. 

' Winthrop, vol. ii. p. 94. 



AT CONCORD. 69 

remove, or did remove to England, the Concord 
people became uneasy, and looked around for new 
seats. In 1643, one seventh or one eighth part of 
the inhabitants went to Connecticut with Rev. Mr. 
Jones, and settled Fairfield. Weakened by this 
loss, the peoj^le begged to be released from a part 
of their rates, to which the General Court con- 
sented.^ Mr. Bulkeley dissuaded his people from 
removing, and admonished them to increase their 
faith with their griefs. Even this check which be- 
fell them acquaints us with the rapidity of their 
growth, for the good man, in dealing with his peo- 
ple, taxes them with luxury. " We pretended to 
come hither," he says, " for ordinances ; but now 
ordinances are light matters with us ; we are turned 
after the prey. We have among us excess and 
pride of life ; pride in apparel, daintiness in diet, 
and that in those who, in times past, woidd have 
been satisfied with bread. Tliis is the sin of the 
lowest of the peopled ^ Better evidence could not 
be desired of the rapid growth of the settlement. 

The check was but momentary. The earth 
teemed with fruits. The people on the bay built 
ships, and found the way to the West Indies, with 
pipe-staves, lumber and fish ; and the country people 
speedily learned to supply themselves with sugar, 

* Sliattuck, p. 16. 

2 Gosjpel Covenant, p. 301. 



60 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

tea and molasses. The college had been already 
gathered in 1638. Now the school house went up. 
The General Court, in 1647, " to the end that learn- 
ing may not be buried in the graves of our fore- 
fathers. Ordered, that every township, after the 
Lord had increased them to the number of fifty 
house-holders, shall appoint one to teach all chil- 
dren to write and read ; and where any town shall 
increase to the number of one hundred families, 
they shall set up a Grammar school, the masters 
thereof being able to instruct youth so far as they 
may be fitted for the University." ^ With these 
requirements Concord not only complied, but, in 

1653, subscribed a sum for several years to the sup- 
port of Harvard College.^ 

But a new and alarming public distress retarded 
the growth of this, as of the sister towns during 
more than twenty years from 1654 to 1676. In 

1654, the four united New England Colonies agreed 
to raise 270 foot and 40 horse, to reduce Ninigret, 
Sachem of the Niantics, and appointed Major Si- 
mon Willard, of this town, to the command.^ This 
war seems to have been pressed by three of the col- 
onies, and reluctantly entered by Massachusetts. 
Accordingly, Major Willard did the least he could, 

* Bancroft, History of the United States, vol. i. p. 498. 

2 Shattuck, p. 45. 

2 Hutcliinson, vol. i. p. 172. 



AT CONCORD. 61 

and inciirrecl the censure of the Commissioners, who 
write to their " loving friend Major Willard," " that 
they leave to his consideration the inconveniences 
arising from his non-attendance to his commission." ^ 
This expedition was but the introduction of the war 
with King Philip. In 1670, the Wampanoags be- 
gan to grind their hatchets, and mend their guns, 
and insult the English. Philiji surrendered seventy 
guns to the Commissioners in Taunton Meeting- 
house,^ but revenged his humiliation a few years 
after, by carrying fire and the tomahawk into the 
English villages. From Narraganset to the Con- 
necticut River, the scene of war was shifted as fast 
as these red hunters could traverse the forest. Con- 
cord was a military post. The inactivity of Major 
Willard, in Ninigret's war, had lost him no confi- 
dence. He marched from Concord to Brookfield, 
in season to save the people whose houses had been 
burned, and who had taken shelter in a fortified 
house.^ But he fought with disadvantage against 
an enemy who must be hunted before every battle. 
Some flourishing towns were burned. John Mon- 
oco, a formidable savage, boasted that " he had 

^ See his instructions fi*om the Commissioners, his narra- 
tive, and the Commissioners' letter to him in Hutchinson's 
Collection, pp. 261-270. 

2 Hutchinson, History, vol. i. 254. 

8 Hubbard, Indian Wars, p. 119, ed. 1801. 



62 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

burned Medfield and Lancaster, and would burn 
Groton, Concord, Watertown and Boston ; " adding, 
" what me will, me do." He did burn Groton, but 
before lie had executed the remainder of his threat 
he was hanged, in Boston, in September, 1676.^ 

A still more formidable enemy was removed, in 
the same year, by the capture of Canonchet, the 
faithful ally of Philip, who was soon afterwards 
shot at Stonington. He stoutly declared to the 
Commissioners that " he would not deliver up a 
Wampanoag, nor the paring of a Wampanoag's 
nail," and when he was told that his sentence was 
death, he said " he liked it well that he was to die 
before his heart was soft, or he had spoken any- 
thing unworthy of himself." ^ 

We know beforehand who must conquer in that 
unequal struggle. The red man may destroy here 
and there a straggler, as a wild beast may ; he may 
fire a farm-house, or a village ; but the association 
of the white men and their arts of war give them 
an overwhelming advantage, and in the first blast 
of their trumpet we already hear the flourish of vic- 
tory. I confess what chiefly interests me, in the 
annals of that war, is the grandeur of spirit exhib- 
ited by a few of the Indian chiefs. A nameless 
Wampanoag who was put to death by the Mohi- 
cans, after cruel tortures, was asked by his butcli- 

1 Hubbard, p. 201. 2 Hubbard, p. 185. 



AT CONCORD. 63 

ers daring the torture, how he liked the war ? — he 
said, " he found it as sweet as sugar was to Eng- 
lishmen." ^ 

The only compensation which war offers for its 
manifold mischiefs, is in the great personal qualities 
to which it gives scope and occasion. The virtues 
of patriotism and of prodigious courage and address 
were exhibited on both sides, and, in many in- 
stances, by women. The historian of Concord has 
preserved an instance of the resolution of one of 
the daughters of the town. Two young farmers, 
Abraham and Isaac Shepherd, had set their sister 
Mary, a girl of fifteen years, to watch whilst they 
threshed grain in the barn. The Indians stole 
upon her before she was aware, and her brothers 
were slain. She was carried captive into the In- 
dian countiy, but, at night, whilst her captors were 
asleep, she plucked a saddle from under the head 
of one of them, took a horse they had stolen from 
Lancaster, and having girt the saddle on, she 
mounted, swam across the Nashua river, and rodo 
tlu'ough the forest to her home.^ 

With the tragical end of Philip, the war ended. 
Beleaguered in his own country, his corn cut down, 
his piles of meal and other provision wasted by 
the English, it was only a great thaw in January, 
that, melting the snow and openmg the earth, ena- 
1 Hubbard, p. 245. 2 Shattuck, p. 55. 



64 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

bled his poor followers to come at the ground-nuts, 
else they had starved. Hunted by Captam Church, 
he fled from one swamp to another ; his brother, 
his uncle, his sister, and his beloved squaw being 
taken or slain, he was at last shot down by an In- 
dian deserter, as he fled alone in the dark of the 
morning, not far from his own fort.^ 

Concord suffered little from the war. This is 
to be attributed no doubt, in part, to the fact that 
troops were generally quartered here, and that it 
was the residence of many noted soldiers. Tradi- 
tion finds another cause in the sanctity of its minis- 
ter. The elder Bidkeley was gone. In 1659,^ his 
bones were laid at rest in the forest. But the man- 
tle of his piety and of the people's affection fell 
upon his son Edward,^ the fame of whose prayers, 
it is said, once saved Concord from an attack of the 
Indian.^ A great defence undoubtedly was the 
village of Praying Indians, until this settlement fell 
a victim to the envenomed prejudice against their 
countrymen. The worst feature in the history of 
those years, is, that no man spake for the Indian. 
When the Dutch, or the French, or the English 
royalist disagreed with the Colony, there was al- 

. 1 Hubbard, p. 260. 
2 Neal, History of New England, vol. i. p. 321. 
8 Mather, Magnolia, vol. i. p. 363. 
4 Shattuck, p. 69. 



AT CONCORD. 65 

ways found a Dutch, or French, or tory party, — 
an earnest minority, — to keep things from extrem- 
ity. But the Indian seemed to inspire such a feel- 
ing as the wild beast inspires in the people near his 
den. It is the misfortune of Concord to have per- 
mitted a disgraceful outrage upon the friendly In- 
dians settled within its limits, in February, 1676, 
which ended in their forcible expulsion from the 
town. 

This painful incident is but too just an example 
of the measure which the Indians have generally re- 
ceived from the whites. For them the heart of 
charity, of humanity, was stone. After Philip's 
death, their strength was irrecoverably broken. 
They never more disturbed the interior settlements, 
and a few vagrant families, that are now pension- 
ers on the bounty of Massachusetts, are all that is 
left of the twenty tribes. 

"Alas ! for them — their clay is o' er, 
Their fires are out from hill and shore, 
No more for them the wild deer bounds, 
The plough is on their hunting grounds ; 
The pale man's axe rings in their woods, 
The pale man's sail skims o'er their floods, 
Their pleasant springs are dry." ^ 

I turn gladly to the progress of our civil history. 
Before 1666, 15,000 acres had been added by 
1 Sprague's Centennial Ode, 



66 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

grants of the General Court to the original terri- 
tory of the town,^ so that Concord then included 
the greater part of the towns of Bedford, Acton, 
Lincoln and Carlisle. 

In the great growth of the country, Concord par- 
ticipated, as is manifest from its increasing polls 
and increased rates. Randolph at this period writes 
to the English Government, concerning the country 
towns ; " The farmers are numerous and wealthy, 
live in good houses ; are given to hospitality ; and 
make good advantage by their corn, cattle, poultry, 
butter and cheese." ^ Edward Bulkeley was the 
pastor, until his death, in 1696. His youngest 
brother, Peter, was deputy from Concord, and was 
chosen speaker of the house of deputies in 1676. 
The following year, he was sent to England, with 
Mr. Stoughton, as agent for the colony ; and, on 
his return, in 1685, was a royal councillor. But I 
am sorry to find that the servile Randolph speaks 
of him with marked respect.^ It would seem that 
his visit to England had made him a courtier. In 
1689, Concord partook of the general indignation 
of the province against Andros. A company 
marched to the capital under Lieut. Heald, forming 
a part of that body concerning which we are in- 

^ Shattuck. 

2 Hutchinson's Collection, p. 484. 

8 Hutchinson's Collection, pp. 543, 548, 557, 566. 



AT CONCORD. C7 

formed, " the country people came armed into Bos- 
ton, on tlie afternoon (of Thursday, 18th April,) 
in such rage and heat, as made us all tremble to 
think what would follow ; for nothing would satisfy 
them but that the governor must be bound in chains 
or cords, and put in a more secure place, and that 
they would see done before they went away ; and 
to satisfy them he was guarded by them to the 
fort." ^ But the town records of that day confine 
themselves to descriptions of lands, and to confer- 
ences with the neighboring towns to run boundary 
lines. In 1699, so broad was their territory, I find 
the selectmen running the lines wdth Chelmsford, 
Cambridge and Watertowu.^ Some interesting 
peculiarities in the manners and customs of the 
time, appear in the town's books. Proposals of 
marriage were made by the parents of the parties, 
and minutes of such private agreements sometimes 
entered on the clerk's records.^ The public charity 
seems to have been bestowed in a manner now ob- 
solete. The toAvn lends its commons as pastures, 
to poor men ; and " being informed of the great 
present want of Thomas Pellit, gave order to 
Stephen Hosmer, to deliver a town cow, of a black 
color, with a white face, unto said Pellit, for his 
present supply." * 

1 Hutchinson's History, vol. i. p. 336. ^ Town Records. 
^ See Appendix, Note A. March and April. 
4 Records, July, 1698. 



68 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

From the beginning to the middle of the eight- 
eenth century, onr records indicate no interruption 
of the tranquillity of the inhabitants, either in 
church or in civil affairs. After the death of Rev. 
Mr. Estabrook, in 1711, it was propounded at the 
town meeting, " whether one of the three gentle- 
men lately improved here in preaching, namely, Mr. 
John Whiting, Mr. Holyoke and Mr. Prescott shall 
be now chosen in the work of the ministry? Voted 
affirmatively." ^ Mr. Whiting, who was chosen, 
was, we are told in his epitaph, " a universal lover 
of mankind." The charges of education and of leg:- 
islation, at this period, seem to have afflicted the 
town ; for, they vote to petition the General Court, 
to be eased of the law relating to providing a school- 
master ; happily, the Court refused ; and in 1712, the 
selectmen agreed with Capt. James Minott, " for 
his son Timothy to keep the school at the school- 
house for the town of Concord, for half a year be- 
ginning 2d June ; and if any scholar shall come, 
within the said time, for laming exceeding his son's 
ability, the said Captain doth agree to instruct them 
himself in the tongues, till the above said time be 
fulfilled ; for which service, the town is to pay Capt. 
Minott ten pounds." ^ Capt. Minott seems to have 
served our prudent fathers in the double capacity 
of teacher and representative. It is an article in 

1 Records, Nov. 1711. 2 Records, May, 1712. 



AT CONCORD. 69 

the selectmen's warrant for the town meetmg, " to 
see if the town will lay in for a representative not 
exceeding four pounds." Captain Minott was 
chosen, and after the General Court was adjourned 
received of the town for his services, an allowance 
of three shillings per day. The country was not yet 
so thickly settled but that the inhabitants suffered 
from wolves and wild-cats, which infested the 
woods ; since bounties of twenty shillings are given 
as late as 1735, to Indians and whites, for the heads 
of these animals, after the constable has cut off the 
ears.i 

Mr. Whiting was succeeded in the pastoral of- 
fice by Rev. Daniel Bliss, in 1738. Soon after his 
ordination, the town seems to have been divided by 
ecclesiastical discords. In 1741, the celebrated 
Whitfield preached here, in the open air, to a great 
congregation. Mr. Bliss heard that great orator 
with delight, and by his earnest sympathy with 
him, in opinion and practice, gave offence to a part 
of his people. Party and mutual councils were 
called, but no grave charge was made good against 
him. I find, in the Church Records, the charges 
preferred against him, his answer thereto, and the 
result of the Council. The charges seem to have 
been made by the lovers of order and moderation 
against Mr. Bliss, as a favorer of religious excite- 
* Records, 173-j. 



70 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

ments. His answer to one of the counts breathes 
such true piety that I cannot forbear to quote it. 
The ninth allegation is " That in praying for him- 
self, in a church meeting, in December last, he 
said, ' he was a poor vile worm of the dust, that 
was allowed as Mediator between God and this peo- 
ple.' " To this Mr. Bliss replied, " In the prayer 
you speak of, Jesus Christ was acknowledged as 
the only Mediator between God and man ; at which 
time, I was filled with wonder, that such a sinful 
and worthless worm as I am, was allowed to repre- 
sent Christ, in any manner, even so far as to be 
bringing the petitions and thank-offerings of the 
people unto God, and God's will and truths to the 
people ; and used the word Mediator in some differ- 
ing light from that you have given it ; but I confess 
I was soon uneasy that I had used the word, lest 
some would put a wrong meaning thereupon." ^ The 
Council admonished Mr. Bliss of some imj)roprieties 
of expression, but bore witness to liis purity and 
fidelity in his office. In 1764, Whitfield preached 
again at Concord, on Sunday afternoon ; Mr. Bliss 
preached in the morning, and the Concord people 
thought their minister gave them the better ser- 
mon of the two. It was also his last. 

The planting of the Colony was the effect of re- 
ligious principle. The Revolution was the fruit of 
1 Ckurch Records, July, 1742. 



AT CONCORD. 71 

anotlier principle, — tlie devouring thirst for jus- 
tice. From the appearance of the article in the 
Selectmen's warrant, in 1765, " to see if the towu 
will give the Representative any instructions about 
any important affair to be transacted by the Gen- 
eral Court, concerning the Stamp Act ; " ^ to the 
peace of 1783, the Town Records breathe a resolute 
and warlike spirit, so bold from the first as hardly 
to admit of increase. 

It would be impossible on this occasion to recite 
all these patriotic papers. I must content mj^self 
with a few brief extracts. On the 24th January, 
1774, in answer to letters received from the united 
committees of correspondence, in the vicinity of 
Boston, the town say : 

" We cannot j)ossibly view with indifference the 
past and present obstinate endeavors of the enemies 
of this, as well as the mother country, to rob us of 
those rights, that are the distinguishing glory and 
felicity of this land ; rights, that we are obliged to 
no power, under heaven, for the enjoyment of ; as 
they are the fruit of the heroic enterprises of the 
first settlers of these American colonies. And 
though we cannot but be alarmed at the great ma- 
jority, in the British parliament, for the imposition 
of unconstitutional taxes on the colonies, yet, it 
gives life and strength to every attempt to oppose 
^ Records. 



72 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

them, that not only the people of this, but the neigh- 
boring provinces are remarkably united in the im- 
portant and interesting opposition, which, as it suc- 
ceeded before, in some measure, by the blessing of 
heaven, so, we cannot but hope it will be attended 
with still greater success, in future. 

" Resolved, That these colonies have been and 
still are illegally taxed by the British parliament, 
as they are not virtually represented therein. 

" That the purchasing commodities subject to 
such illegal taxation is an explicit, though an im- 
pious and sordid resignation of the liberties of this 
free and happy people. 

" That, as the British parliament have empowered 
the East India Company to export their tea into 
America, for the sole purpose of raising a revenue 
from hence ; to render the design abortive, we will 
not, in this town, either by ourselves, or any from 
or under us, buy, sell, or use any of the East India 
Company's tea, or any other tea, whilst there is a 
duty for raising a revenue thereon in America ; 
neither will we suffer any such tea to be used in 
our families. 

" That, all such persons as shall purchase, sell, or 
use any such tea, shall, for the future, be deemed 
unfriendly to the happy constitution of this coun- 
try. 

" That, in conjunction with our brethren in Amer« 



AT CONCORD. 73 

ica, we will risk our fortunes, and even our lives, in 
defence of his majesty. King George the Third, his 
person, crown and dignity ; and will, also, with the 
same resolution, as his free-born subjects in this 
country, to the utmost of our power, defend all our 
rights inviolate to the latest posterity. 

"That, if any person or persons, inhabitants of 
this province, so long as there is a duty on tea, shall 
import any tea from the India House, in England, 
or be factors for the East India Company, we will 
treat them, in an eminent degree, as enemies to 
their country, and with contempt and detestation. 

"That, we think it our duty, at this critical time 
of our public affairs, to return our hearty thanks to 
the town of Boston, for every rational measure they 
have taken for the preservation or recovery of our 
invaluable rights and liberties infringed upon ; and 
we hope, should the state of our public affairs re- 
quire it, that they will stiU remain watchful and 
persevering ; with a steady zeal to espy out every- 
thing that shall have a tendency to subvert our 
happy constitution." ^ 

On the 27th June, near three hundred persons, 
upwards of twenty-one years of age, inhabitants of 
Concord, entered into a covenant, " solemnly en- 
gaging with each other, in the presence of God, to 
suspend all commercial intercourse with Great Brit- 
^ Town Records. 



74 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

ain, until the act for blocking tlie harbor of Boston 
be repealed ; and neither to buy nor consume any 
merchandise imported from Great Britain, nor to 
deal with those who do." ^ 

In August, a County Coavention met in this 
town, to deliberate upon the alarming state of j)ub- 
lic affairs, and published an admirable report. ^ In 
September, incensed at the new royal law which 
made the judges dependent on the crown, the 
inhabitants assembled on the common, and for- 
bade the justices to open the court of sessions. 
This little town then assumed the sovereignty. It 
was judge and jury and council and king. On the 
26th of the month, the whole town resolved itself 
into a committee of safety, " to suppress all riots, 
tumults, and disorders in said town, and to aid all 
untainted magistrates in the execution of the laws 
of the land." ^ It was then voted, to raise one or 
more companies of Minute Men, by enlistment, to 
be paid by the town whenever called out of town ; 
and to provide arms and ammunition, " that those 
who are miable to purchase them themselves, may 
have the advantage of them, if necessity calls for 
it." * In October, the Provincial Congress met in 
Concord. John Hancock was President. This 

^ Towu Records. 

2 See the Report in Shattuek, p. 82. 

8 Records. * Records. 



AT CONCORD. 75 

body was composed of the foremost patriots, and 
adopted those efficient measures whose progress 
and issue belong to the history of the nation. ^ 

The clergy of New England were, for the most 
part, zealous promoters of the revolution. A deep 
religious sentiment sanctified the thirst for liberty. 
All the military movements in this town were sol- 
emnized by acts of public worship. In January, 
1775, a meeting was held for the enlisting of min- 
ute men. Rev. William Emerson, the Chaplain of 
the Provincial Congress, preached to the people. 
Sixty men enlisted and, in a few days, many more. 
On 13th March, at a general review of all the mili- 
tary companies, he preached to a very full assem- 
bly, taking for his text, 2 Chronicles xiii. 12, 
" And, behold, God himself is with us for our cap- 
tain, and his priests with sounding trumpets to cry 
alarm against you." ^ It is said that all the ser- 
vices of that day made a deep impression on the 
people, even to the singing of the psalm. 

A large amount of military stores had been de- 
posited in this town, by order of the Provincial 
Committee of Safety. It was to destroy those 
stores, that the troops who were attacked in this 
town, on the 19th April, 1775, were sent hither 
by General Gage. 

1 Bradford, History of Massachusetts, vol. i. p. 353. 

2 Rev. "W. Emerson's MS. Journal. 



76 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

The story of tliat day is well known. In these 
peaceful fields, for the first time since a hundred 
years, the drum and alarm-gun were heard, and 
the farmers snatched down their rusty fu'elocks 
from the kitchen walls, to make good the resolute 
words of their town debates. In the field where 
the western abutment of the old bridge may still 
be seen, about half a mile from this spot, the first 
organized resistance was made to the British arms. 
There the Amei'icans first shed British blood. 
Eight hundred British soldiers, under the command 
of Lieut.-Col. Francis Smith, had marched from 
Boston to Concord ; at Lexington had fired upon 
the brave handful of militia, for which a speedy 
revenge was reaped by the same militia in the after- 
noon. When they entered Concord, they found 
the militia and minute-men assembled under the 
command of Col. Barrett and Major Buttrick. 
This little battalion, though in their hasty council 
some were urgent to stand their gTound, retreated 
before the enemy to the high land on the other 
bank of the river, to wait for reinforcement. Col. 
Barrett ordered the troops not to fire, unless fired 
upon. The British following them across the 
bridge, posted two comiDanies, amounting to about 
one hundred men, to guard the bridge, and secure 
the return of the plundering party. Meantime, 
the men of Acton, Bedford, Lincoln and Carlisle, 



AT CONCORD. 77 

all once included in Concord, remembering their 
parent town in the hour of danger, arrived and fell 
into the ranks so fast, that Major Buttrick found 
himself superior in number to the enemy's party at 
the bridge. And when the smoke began to rise 
from the village where the British were burning 
cannon-carriages and military stores, the Americans 
resolved to force their way into town. The Eng- 
lish beginning to pluck up spme of the planks of 
the bridge, the Americans quickened their pace, 
and the British fired one or two shots up the river, 
(our ancient friend here. Master Blood, saw the 
water struck by the first ball ;) then a single gun, 
the ball from which wounded Luther Blanchard 
and Jonas Brown, and then a volley, by which 
Captain Isaac Davis and Abner Hosmer of Acton 
were instantly killed. Major Buttrick leaped from 
the ground, and gave the command to fire, which 
was repeated in a simultaneous cry by all his men. 
The Americans fired, and killed two men and 
wounded eight. A head stone and a foot stone, on 
this bank of the river, mark the j)lace where these 
first victims lie. The British retreated immediately 
towards the village, and were joined by two compa- 
nies of grenadiers, whom the noise of the firing had 
hastened to the spot. The militia and minute 
men, — every one from that moment being his own 
commander, — ran over the hills opposite the battle- 



78 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

field, and across the great fields, into tlie east quar- 
ter of the town, to waylay the enemy, and annoy 
his retreat. The British, as soon as they were re- 
joined by the plundering detachment, began that 
disastrous retreat to Boston, which was an omen to 
both parties of the event of the war. 

In all the anecdotes of that day's events we may 
discern the natural action of the people. It was 
not an extravagant ebullition of feeling, but might 
have been calculated on by any one acquainted 
with the spirits and habits of our community. 
Those poor farmers who came up, that day, to de- 
fend their native soil, acted from the simplest in- 
stincts. They did not know it was a deed of fame 
they were doing. These men did not babble of 
glory. They never dreamed their children would 
contend who had done the most. They supposed 
they had a right to their corn and their cattle, witli- 
out paying tribute to any but their own governors. 
And as they had no fear of man, they yet did have 
a fear of God. Capt. Charles Miles, who was 
wounded in the pursuit of the enemy, told my ven- 
erable friend who sits by me, that " he went to the 
services of that day, with the same seriousness and 
acknowledgement of God, which he carried to 
church." 

The presence of these aged men who were in arms 
on that day, seems to bring us nearer to it. The 



AT CONCORD. 79 

benignant Providence wliicli has prolonged their 
lives to this hour, gratifies the strong curiosity of 
tlie new generation. The Pilgrims are gone ; but 
we see what manner of persons they were who 
stood in the worst perils of the Revolution. We 
hold by the hand the last of the invincible men of 
old, and confirm from living lips the sealed records 
of time. 

And you, my fathers, whom God and the history 
of your country have ennobled, may well bear a 
chief part in keeping this peaceful birth-day of our 
town. You are indeed extraordinary heroes. If 
ever men in arms had a spotless cause, you had. 
You have fought a good fight. And having quit 
you like men in the battle, you have quit yourselves 
like men in your virtuous families ; in your corn- 
fields ; and in society. We will not hide your hon- 
orable gray hairs under perishing laurel leaves, but 
the eye of affection and veneration follows you. 
You are set apart, — and forever, — for the esteem 
and gratitude of the human race, To you belongs 
a better badge than stars and ribbons. This pros- 
pering country is your ornament, and this expand- 
ing nation is multiplying your praise with millions 
of tongues. 

The agitating events of those days were duly re- 
membered in the church. On the second day after 
the affray, divine service was attended, in this 



80 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

house, by 700 soldiers. William Emerson, the 
pastor, had a hereditary claim to the affection of 
the people, being descended in the fourth genera- 
tion from Edward BuUceley, son of Peter. But he 
had merits of his own. The cause of the colonies 
was so much in his heart, that he did not cease 
to make it the subject of his preaching and his 
prayers, and is said to have deeply inspired many 
of his people with his own enthusiasm. He, at least, 
saw clearly the pregnant consequences of the 19th 
April. I have found within a few days, among 
some family papers, his almanac of 1775, in a 
blank leaf of which he has written a narrative of 
the fight ; ^ and, at the close of the month, he 
writes, " This month remarkable for the greatest 
events of the present age." To promote the same 
cause, he asked, and obtained of the town, leave 
to accept the commission of chaplain to the North- 
ern army, at Ticonderoga, and died, after a few 
months, of the distemper that prevailed in the 
camp. 

In the whole course of the war the town did not 
depart from this pledge it had given. Its little 
population of 1300 sovds behaved like a party to 
the contest. The number of its troops constantly 
in service is very great. Its pecuniary burdens 
are out of all proportion to its capital. The econ- 
^ See the Appendix, Note B. 



AT CONCORD. 81 

omy so rigid which marked its earlier history, has 
all vanished. It spends profusely, affectionately, 
in the service. " Since," say the plaintive records, 
" General Washington, at Cambridge, is not able 
to give but 24s. per cord for wood, for the army ; 
it is Voted, that this town encourage the inhabi- 
tants to supply the army, by paying two dollars 
2)er cord, over and above the General's price, to 
such as shall carry wood thither ; " ^ and 210 cords 
of wood were carried.^ A similar order is taken 
respecting hay. Whilst Boston was occupied by 
the British troops, Concord contributed to the re- 
lief of the inhabitants, £10, in money ; 225 bushels 
of grain ; and a quantity of meat and wood. 
VYhen, presently, the poor of Boston were quar- 
tered by the Provincial Congress on the neighbor- 
ing country. Concord received 82 persons to its 
hospitality.^ In the year 1775, it raised 100 min- 
ute men, and 74 soldiers to serve at Cambridge. 
In March, 1776, 145 men were raised by this town 
to serve at Dorchester Heights.* In June, the Gen- 
eral Assembly of Massachusetts resolved to raise 
5,000 militia for six months, to reinforce the Conti- 
nental army. " The numbers," say they, " are 
large, but this Court has the fullest assurance, that 
their brethren, on this occasion, will not confer with 

1 Records, Dec. 1775. ^ Sliattuck, p. 125. 

2 Shattuck, p. 125. ^ Sliattuck, p. 124. 



82 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

flesh and blood, but will, without hesitation, and 
with the utmost alacrity and despatch, fill up the 
numbers proportioned to the several towns." ^ On 
that occasion. Concord furnished 67 men, paying 
them itself, at an expense of X622. And so on, 
with every levy, to the end of the war. For these 
men it was continually providing shoes, stockings, 
shirts, coats, blankets and beef. The taxes, which, 
before the war, had not much exceeded .£200 per 
annum, amomited, in the year 1782, to $9,544, in 
silver.^ 

The great expense of the war was borne with 
cheerfulness, whilst the war lasted ; but years 
passed, after the peace, before the debt was paid. 
As soon as danger and injury ceased, the people 
were left at leisure to consider their poverty and 
their debts. The town records show how slowly 
the inhabitants recovered from the strain of exces- 
sive exertion. Their instructions to their represent- 
atives are full of loud complaints of the disgrace- 
fid state of public credit, and the excess of public 
expenditure. They may be pardoned, under such 
distress, for the mistakes of an extreme frugality. 
They fell into a common error, not yet dismissed 
to the moon, that the remedy was, to forbid the 
great importation of foreign commodities, and to 

1 Bradford, History of Massachusetts, vol. ii. p. 113. 

2 Shattuck, p. 126. 



AT CONCORD. 83 

prescribe by law the prices of articles. The opera- 
tion of a new government was dreaded, lest it 
should prove expensive, and the country towns 
thought it would be cheaper if it were removed 
from the capital. They were jealous lest the Gen- 
eral Coiu't should pay itself too liberally, and our 
fathers must be forgiven by their charitable pos- 
terity, if, in 1782, before choosing a representative, 
it was "Voted, that the person who should be chosen 
representative to the General Court should receive 
6s. per day, whilst in actual service, an account of 
which time he should bring to the town, and if it 
should be that the General Court should resolve, 
that, their pay should be more than 6s., then the 
representative shall be hereby directed to pay the 
overplus into the town treasury." ^ This was se- 
curing the prudence of the public servants. 

But whilst the town had its own full share of the 
public distress, it was very far from desiring relief 
at the cost of order and law. In 1786, when the 
general sufferings drove the people in parts of Wor- 
cester and Hampshire counties to insurrection, a 
large party of armed insurgents arrived in this 
town, on the 12th September, to hinder the sitting 
of the Court of Common Pleas. But they found 
no countenance here.^ The same people who had 

1 Records, May 3. 

2 Bradford, History of Massachusetts, vol. i. p. 266, and Rec- 
ords, 9th September. 



84 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

been active in a County Convention to consider 
grievances, condemned the rebellion, and joined the 
authorities in putting it down. In 1787, the ad- 
mirable instructions given by the town to its repre- 
sentative are a proud monument of the good sense 
and good feeling that prevailed. The grievances 
ceased with the adoption of the Federal constitution. 
The constitution of Massachusetts had been already 
accej^ted. It was put to the town of Concord, in 
October, 1776, by the Legislature, whether the exist- 
ing house of representatives should enact a consti- 
tution for the State? The town answered No.^ 
The General Court, notwithstanding, draughted a 
constitution, sent it here, and asked the town 
whether they would have it for the law of the 
State? The town answered No, by a unanimous 
vote. In 1780, a constitution of the State, proposed 
by the Convention chosen for that purpose, was ac- 
cepted by the town with the reservation of some ar- 
ticles.2 And, in 1788, the town, by its delegate, 
accepted the new Constitution of the United States, 
and this event closed the whole series of important 
public events in which this town played a part. 

From that time to the present hour, this town 
has made a slow but constant progress in popula- 
tion and wealth, and the arts of peace. It has suf- 
fered neither from war, nor pestilence, nor famine, 

1 Records, 21st October. 2 Records, 7th May. 



AT CONCORD. 85 

nor flagrant crime. Its population, in tlie census 
of 1830, was 2,020 souls. The public expenses, for 
the last year, amounted to $4,290 ; for the present 
year, to 15,040.^ If the community stints its ex- 
pense in small matters, it spends freely on great 
duties. The town raises, this year, $1,800 for its 
public schools ; besides about $1,200 which are 
paid, by subscription, for private schools. This 
year, it expends $800 for its poor ; the last year it 
expended $900. Two religious societies, of differ- 
ing creed, dwell together in good understanding, 
both promoting, we hope, the cause of righteousness 
and love. Concord has always been noted for its 
ministers. The living need no praise of mine. 
Yet it is among the sources of satisfaction and grat- 
itude, this day, that the aged with whom is wisdom, 
our fathers' counsellor and friend, is spared to 
counsel and intercede for the sons. 

Such, Fellow Citizens, is an imperfect sketch of 
the history of Concord. I have been greatly in- 
debted, in preparing this sketch, to the printed but 
unpublished History of this town, furnished me by 
the unhesitating kindness of its author, long a resi- 
dent in this place. I hope that History will not 
long remain unknown. The author has done us 
and posterity a kindness, by the zeal and patience 
of his research, and has wisely enriched his pages 
1 Records, 1834 and 1835. 



86 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE 

with the resokitlons, addresses and mstructions to 
its agents, wliich from time to time, at critical pe- 
riods, the town has voted. Meantime, I have read 
with care the town records themselves. They must 
ever be the fountains of all just information respect- 
ing your character and customs. They are the his- 
tory of the town. They exhibit a pleasing picture 
of a community almost exclusively agricultural, 
where no man has much time for words, in his 
search after things ; of a community of great sim- 
plicity of manners, and of a manifest love of justice. 
For the most part, the town has deserved the name 
it wears. I find our annals marked with a uniform 
good sense. I find no ridiculous laws, no eaves- 
dropping legislators, ^ no hanging of witches, no 
ghosts, no whipping of Quakers, no unnatural 
crimes. The tone of the records rises with the dig- 
nity of the event. These soiled and musty books 
are luminous and electric within. The old town 
clerks did not spell very correctly, but they contrive 
to make pretty intelligible the will of a free and 
just community. Frugal our fathers were, — very 
frugal, — though, for the most part, they deal gen- 
erously by their minister, and provide well for the 
schools and the poor. If, at any time, in common 
with most of our towns, they have carried this 
economy to the verge of a vice, it is to be remem- 
bered that a town is, in many respects, a financial 



AT CONCORD. 87 

corporation. They economize, that they may sacri- 
fice. They stint and higgle on the price of a pew, 
that they may send 200 soldiers to General Wash- 
ington to keep Great Britain at bay. For splendor, 
there must somewhere be rigid economy. That the 
head of the house may go brave, the members must 
be plainly clad, and the town must save that the 
State may spend. Of late years, the growth of Con- 
cord has been slow. Without navigable waters, 
without mineral riches, without any considerable 
mill privileges, the natural increase of her popula- 
tion is drained by the constant emigration of the 
youth. Her sons have settled the region around us, 
and far from us. Their wagons have rattled down 
the remote western hills. And in every part of this 
country, and in many foreign parts, they plough the 
earth, they traverse the sea, they engage in trade 
and in all the professions. 

Fellow Citizens ; let not the solemn shadows of 
two hundred years, this day, fall over us in vain. 
I feel some unwillingness to quit the remembrance 
of the past. With all the hope of the new I feel 
that we are leaving the old. Every moment carries 
us farther from the two great epochs of public prin- 
ciple, the Planting, and the Revolution of the col- 
ony. Fortunate and favored this town has been, in 
having received so large an infusion of the spirit of 
both of those periods. Humble as is our village in 



88 HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 

the circle of later and prouder towns that whiten 
the land, it has been consecrated by the presence 
and activity of the purest men. Why need I re- 
mind you of our own Hosmers, Minotts, Cumings, 
Barretts, Beattons, the departed benefactors of the 
town ? On the village green have been the steps 
of Winthrop and Dudley ; of John Eliot, the In- 
dian apostle, who had a courage that intimidated 
those savages whom his love could not melt ; of 
Whitfield, whose silver voice melted his great con- 
gregation into tears ; of Hancock, and his compat- 
riots of the provincial Congress ; of Langdon, and 
the college over which he presided. But even more 
sacred influences than these have mingled here with 
the stream of human life. The merit of those who 
fill a space in the world's history, who are borne 
forward, as it were, by the weight of thousands 
whom they lead, sheds a perfume less sweet than do 
the sacrifices of private virtue. I have had much 
opj)ortunity of access to anecdotes of families, and 
I believe this town to have been the dwelling place, 
in all times since its planting, of pious and excel- 
lent persons, who walked meekly through the paths 
of common life, who served God, and loved man, 
and never let go the hope of immortality. The 
benediction of their prayers and of their principles 
lingers around us. The acknowledgment of the 
Supreme Being exalts the history of tliis people. It 



APPENDIX. 89 

brought the fathers hither. In a war of principle, 
it delivered their sons. And so long as a spark of 
this faith survives among the children's children, so 
long shall the name of Concord be honest and ven- 
erable. 



APPENDIX. 

NOTE A. — SEE P. 67. 



The following minutes from the Town Records 
in 1692, may serve as an example : — 

John Craggin, aged about 63 years, and Sarah 
his wife, act. about 63 years, do both testify upon 
©ath, that, about 2 years ago, John Shepard, sen. of 
Concord, came to our house in Obourne, to treat 
with us, and give us a visit, and carried the said Sary 
Craggin to Concord with him, and there discoursed 
us in order to a marriage between his son, John 
Shepard, Jr. and our daughter, Eliz. Craggin, and, 
for our incouragement, and before us, did promise, 
that, upon the consummation of the said marriage, 
he, the said Jolui Shepard, sen. would give to his 
son, John Shepard, jun. the one half of his dwelling 
house, and the old barn, and the pasture before the 
barn ; the old plow-land, and the old horse, when 
his colt was fit to ride, and his old oxen, when his 



90 APPENDIX. 

steers were fit to work. All this lie promised upon 
marriage as above said, which marriage was con- 
summated upon March following, which is two 
years ago, come next March, Dated Feb. 25, 1692. 
Taken on oath before me, Wm. Johnson. 

NOTE B. — SEE P. 80. 

The importance which the skirmish at Concord 
Bridge derived from subsequent events, has, of late 
years, attracted much notice to the incidents of the 
day. There are, as might be expected, some discrep- 
ancies in the different narratives of the fight. In 
the brief summary in the text, I have relied mainly 
on the depositions taken by order of the Provincial 
Congress within a few days after the action, and on 
the other contemporary evidence. I have consulted 
the English narrative in the Massachusetts Histor- 
ical Collections, and in the trial of Home (Cases 
adjudged in King's Bench; London, 1800, vol. ii. p. 
677), the inscription made by order of the legisla- 
ture of Massachusetts on the two field-pieces pre- 
sented to the Concord Artillery ; Mr. Phinney's 
History of the Battle at Lexington ; Dr. Ripley's 
History of Concord Fight ; Mr. Shattuck's narrative 
in his History, besides some oral and some manu- 
script evidence of eye-witnesses. The following 
narrative, written by Rev. William Emerson, a 
spectator of the action, has never been published. 



APPENDIX. 91 

A part of it has been in my possession for years: 
a part of it I discovered, only a few days since, in 
a trunk of family papers : — 

1775, 19 Aijril. This morning, between 1 and 2 
o'clock, we were alarmed by the ringing of the bell, and 
upon examination fomid that the troops, to the number 
of 800, had stole their march from Boston, in boats and 
barges, from the bottom of the Common over to a point 
in Cambridge, near to Inman's Farm, and were at Lex- 
ington Meeting-house, half an hour before sunrise, where 
they had fired upon a body of our men, and (as we after- 
ward heard,) had killed several. This intelligence was 
brought us at first by Dr. Samuel Prescott, who narrowly 
escaped the guard that were sent before on horses, pur- 
posely to prevent all posts and messengers from givhig us 
timely information. He, by the help of a very fleet horse, 
crossing several walls and fences, arrived at Concord at 
the time above mentioned ; when several posts were imme- 
diately despatched, that returning confirmed the account 
of the regulars' arrival at Lexington, and that they were 
on their way to Concord. Upon this, a number of our 
minute men belonging to this town, and Acton, and Lyn- 
coha, with several others that were in readiness, marched 
out to meet them ; while the alarm company were pre- 
paring to receive them in the town. Capt. Minot, who 
commanded them, thought it proper to take possession of 
the hill above the meeting-house, as the most advanta- 
geous situation. No sooner had our men gained it, than 
we were met by the companies that were sent out to meet 



92 ' APPENDIX. 

the troops, who informed us, that they were just upon 
us, and that we must retreat, as their number was more 
than treble ours. We then retreated from the hill near 
the Liberty Pole, and took a new post back of the town 
upon an eminence, where we formed into two battalions, 
and waited the arrival of the enemy. Scarcely had we 
formed, before we saw the British troops at the distance 
of a quarter of a mile, glittering in arms, advancing to- 
wards us with the greatest celerity. Some were for 
making a stand, notwithstanding the superiority of their 
number ; but others more prudent thought best to retreat 
till our strength should be equal to the enemy's by re- 
cruits from neighboring towns that were continually 
coming in to our assistance. Accordingly we retreated 
over the bridge, when the troops came into the town, set 
fire to several carriages for the artillery, destroyed 60 
bbls. flour, rifled several houses, took possession of the 
town-house, destroyed 500 lb. of balls, set a guard of 100 
men at the North Bridge, and sent up a party to the 
house of Col. Barrett, where they were in expectation of 
finding a quantity of warlike stores. But these were 
happily secured just before their arrival, by transporta- 
tion into the woods and other by-places. In the mean- 
time, the guard set by the enemy to secure the pass at 
the North Bridge were alarmed by the approach of our 
people, who had retreated, as mentioned before, and 
were now advancing with special orders not to fire upon 
the troops unless fired upon. These orders were so 
punctually observed that we received the fire of the 
enemy in three several and separate discharges of their 



APPENDIX. 93 

pieces before it was returned by our commanding officer ; 
the firing then soon become general for several minutes, 
in which skirmish two were killed on each side, and sev- 
eral of the enemy wounded. It may here be observed, 
by the way, that we were the more cautious to prevent 
beginning a rupture with the King's troops, as we were 
then uncertain what had happened at Lexington, and 
knew [not] ^ that they had began the quarrel there by 
first firing upon our people, and killing eight men upon 
the spot. The three companies of troops soon quitted 
their post at the bridge, and retreated in the greatest 
disorder and confusion to the main body, who were soon 
upon the march to meet them. For half an hour, the 
enemy, by their marches and counter-marches, discovered 
great fickleness and inconstancy of mind, sometimes ad- 
vancing, sometimes returning to their former posts ; till, 
at length they quitted the town, and retreated by the 
way they came. In the meantime, a party of our men 
(150) took the back way through the Great Fields into 
the east quarter, and had placed themselves to advan- 
tage, lying in ambush behind walls, fences and buUd- 
ings, ready to fire upon the enemy on their retreat. 

The following notice of tlie Centennial Celebra- 
tion lias been drawn up and sent us by a friend 
who thought it desirable to preserve the remem- 
brance of some particulars of this historical festi- 
val. 

^ The context and the testimony of some of the surviving 
veterans Lncliue me to think that this word was accidentally 
omitted. R. W. E, 



94 APPENDIX. 

At a meeting of the town of Concord, in April 
last, it was voted to celebrate the Second Centen- 
nial Anniversary of the settlement of the town, on 
the 12th September following. A committee of 
fifteen were chosen to make the arrangements. 
This committee appointed Ralph Waldo Emerson, 
Orator, and Rev. Dr. Ripley and Rev. Mr. Wilder, 
Chaplains of the Day. Hon. John Keyes was 
chosen President of the Day. 

On the morning of the 12th September, at half 
past 10 o'clock, the children of the town, to the 
number of about 500, moved in procession to the 
<jommon in front of the old church and Court-house, 
and there opened to the right and left, awaiting 
the procession of citizens. At 11 o'clock, the Con- 
cord Light Infantry, under Capt. Moore, and the 
Artillery under Capt. Buttrick, escorted the civic 
procession, under the direction of Moses Prichard 
as Chief Marshall, from Shepherd's hotel, through 
the lines of children to the Meeting-house. The 
South galleiy had been reserved for ladies, and the 
North gallery for the children ; but (it was a good 
omen) the children overran the space assigned for 
their accommodation, and were sjjrinkled through- 
out the house, and ranged on seats along the aisles. 
The old Meeting-house, which was propped to sus- 
tain the unwonted weight of the multitude within 
its walls, was built in 1712, thus having stood for 



APPENDIX. 95 

more than half the period to which our history goes 
back. Prayers were offered and the Scriptnres 
read by the aged minister of the town, Rev. Ezra 
Ripley, now in the 85th year of his age ; — another 
interesting feature in this scene of reminiscences. 
A very pleasant and impressive part of the services 
in the church was the singing of the 107th psalm, 
from the New England version of the psalms made 
by Eliot, Mather, and others, in 1639, and used in 
the church in this town in the days of Peter Bulke- 
ley. The psalm was read a line at a time, after 
the ancient fashion, from the Deacons' seat, and so 
sung to the tune of St. Martin's by the whole con- 
gregation standing. 

Ten of the surviving veterans who were in arms 
at the Bridge, on the 19 April, 1775, honored the 
festival with their presence. Their names are Abel 
Davis, Thaddeus Blood, Tilly Buttrick, John Hos- 
mer, of Concord ; Thomas Thorp, Solomon Smith, 
John Oliver, Aaron Jones, of Acton ; David Lane, 
of Bedford ; Amos Baker, of Lincoln. 

On leaving the church, the procession again 
formed, and moved to a large tent nearly opposite 
Shepherd's hotel, under which dinner was prepared, 
and the company sat down to the tables, to the 
number of four hundred. We were honored with 
the presence of distinguished gxiests, among whom 
were Lieut. Gov. Armstrong, Judge Davis, Alden 



96 APPENDIX. 

Bradford (descended from the 2d governor of Plym- 
outh Colony), Hon. Edward Everett, Hon. Ste- 
phen C. Phillips of Salem, Philip Hone, Esq. of 
New York, Gen. Dearborn, and Lt. Col. R. C. Win- 
throp, (descended from the 1st Governor of Massa- 
chusetts.) Letters were read from several gentle- 
men expressing their regret at being deprived of 
the pleasure of being present on the occasion. The 
character of the speeches and sentiments at the 
dinner was manly and affectionate, in keeping with 
the whole temper of the day. 

On leaving the dinner table, the invited guests, 
with many of the citizens, repaired to the Court- 
house to pay their respects to the ladies of Con- 
cord, who had there, with their friends, partaken of 
an elegant collation, and now politely offered coffee 
to the gentlemen. The hall, in which the collation 
was spread, had been decorated by fair hands with 
festoons of flowers, and wreaths of evergreen, and 
hung with pictures of the Fathers of the Town. 
Crowded as it was with graceful forms and happy 
faces, and resounding with the hum of animated 
conversation, it was itself a beautiful living picture. 
Compared with the poverty and savageness of the 
scene which the same spot presented two hundred 
years ago, it was a brilliant reverse of the medal ; 
and could scarcely fail, like all the parts of the 
holiday, to lead the reflecting mind to thoughts of 



APPENDIX. 97 

that Divine Providence, which, in every generation, 
has been our tower of defence and horn of Llessing. 
At sunset the company separated and retired to 
their homes ; and the evening of this day of excite- 
ment was as quiet as a Sabbath throughout the 
village. 



ADDRESS 

AT THE DEDICATION OF THE SOLDIERS' MONUMENT IN CONCORD, 
APRIL 19TH, 1867. 



ADDKESS. 



Fellow Citizens : 

The day is in Concord doubly our calendar day, 
as being the anniversary of the invasion of the 
town by the British troops in 1775, and of the de- 
parture of the company of volunteers for Washing- 
ton, in 1861. We are all pretty well aware that 
the facts which make to us the interest of this day 
are in a great degree personal and local here ; that 
every other town and city has its own heroes and 
memorial days, and that we can hardly expect a 
wide sjTiipathy for the names and anecdotes which 
we delight to record. We are glad and proud that 
we have no monopoly of merit. We are thankful 
that other towns and cities are as rich ; that the 
heroes of old and of recent date, who made and 
kept America free and united, were not rare or sol- 
itary growths, but sporadic over vast tracts of the 
Kepublic. Yet, as it is a piece of nature and the 
common sense that the throbbing chord that holds 
lis to our kindred, our friends and our town, is not 
to be denied or resisted, — no matter how frivolous 



102 ADDRESS. 

or unpliilosopliical its pulses, — we shall cling af- 
fectionately to our houses, our river and pastures, 
and believe that our visitors wiU pardon us if we 
take the privilege of talking freely about our near- 
est neighbors as in a family party ; — well assured, 
meantime, that the virtues we are met to honor 
were directed on aims which command the sympa- 
thy of every loyal American citizen, were exerted 
for the protection of our common country, and 
aided its triumph. 

The town has thought fit to signify its honor for 
a few of its sons by raising an obelisk in the square. 
It is a simple pile enough, — a few slabs of granite, 
dug just below the surface of the soil, and laid upon 
the top of it ; but as we have learned that the up- 
heaved mountain, from which these discs or flakes 
were broken, was once a glowing mass at white 
heat, slowly crystallized, then uplifted by the cen- 
tral fires of the globe : so the roots of the events it 
appropriately marks are in the heart of the uni- 
verse. I shall say of this obelisk, planted here in 
our quiet plains, what Richter says of the volcano 
in the fair landscape of Naples : " Vesuvius stands 
in this poem of Nature, and exalts everything, as 
war does the age." 

The art of the architect and the sense of the 
town have made these dumb stones speak ; have, if 
I may borrow the old language of the church, con- 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 103 

verted these elements from a secular to a sacred 
and spiritual use ; have made them look to the past 
and the future ; have given them a meaning for the 
imagination and the heart. The sense of the town, 
the eloquent inscriptions the shaft now bears, the 
memories of these martyrs, the noble names which 
yet have gathered only their first fame, whatever 
good grows to the country out of the war, the lar- 
gest results, the future power and genius of the land, 
will go on clothing this shaft with daily beauty 
and spiritual life. 'T is certain that a plain stone 
like this, standing on such memories, having no ref- 
erence to utilities, but only to the grand instincts 
of the civil and moral man, mixes with surrounding 
nature, — by day, with the changing seasons, by 
night the stars roll over it gladly, — becomes a 
sentiment, a poet, a prophet, an orator, to every 
townsman and passenger, an altar where the noble 
youth shall in all time come to make his secret 
vows. 

The old Monument, a short half-mile from this 
house, stands to signalize the first Revolution, 
where the people resisted offensive usurpations, of- 
fensive taxes of the British Parliament, claiming 
that there should be no tax without representation. 
Instructed by events, after the quarrel began, the 
Americans took higher ground, and stood for po- 
litical independence. But in the necessities of the 



104 ADDRESS. 

hour, they overlooked the moral law, and winked 
at a practical exception to the Bill of Rights they 
had drawn up. They winked at the exception, be- 
lieving it insignificant. But the moral law, the 
nature of things, did not wink at it, but kept its 
eye wide open. It turned out that this one viola- 
tion was a subtle poison, which in eighty years 
corrupted the whole overgrown body j)olitic, and 
brought the alternative of extirpation of the poison 
or ruin to the Republic. 

This new Monument is built to mark the arrival 
of the nation at the new principle, — say, rather, 
at its new acknowledgment, for the principle is as 
old as Heaven, — that only that State can live, in 
which injury to the least member is recognized as 
damage to the whole. 

Reform must begin at home. The aim of the 
hour was to reconstruct the South ; but fu'st the 
North had to be reconstructed. Its own theory 
and practice of liberty had got sadly out of gear, 
and must be corrected. It was done on the instant. 
A thunder-storm at sea sometimes reverses the mag- 
nets in the ship, and south is north. The storm of 
war works the like miracle on men. Every demo- 
crat who went South came back a republican, like 
the governors who, in Buchanan's time, went to 
Kansas, and instantly took the free-state colors. 
War, says the poet, is 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 105 

" the arduous strife, 
To whicli the triumph of all good is given." 

Every principle is a war-note. When the rights of 
man are recited under any old government, every 
one of them is a declaration of war. War civilizes, 
re-arranges the population, distributing by ideas, — 
the innovators on one side, the antiquaries on the 
other. It opens the eyes wider. Once we were 
patriots up to the town-bounds, or the State-line. 
But when you replace the love of family or clan by 
a principle, as freedom, instantly that fire runs over 
the State-line into New Hampshire, Vermont, New 
York and Ohio, into the prairie and beyond, leaps 
the mountains, bridges river and lake, burns as 
hotly in Kansas and California as in Boston, and 
no chemist can discriminate between one soil and 
the other. It lifts every population to an equal 
power and merit. 

As long as we debate in council, both sides may 
form their private guess what the event may be, or 
which is the strongest. But the moment you cry 
" Every man to his tent, O Israel ! " the delusions 
of hope and fear are at an end ; — the strength is 
now to be tested by the eternal facts. There will 
be no doubt more. The world is equal to itself. 
The secret architecture of things begins to disclose 
itself ; the fact that all things were made on a ba- 
sis of right ; that justice is really desired by all in- 



106 ADDRESS. 

telligent beings ; that opposition to it is against the 
nature of things ; and that, whatever may happen 
in this hour or that, the years and the centuries are 
always pulling down the wrong and building up 
the right. 

The war made the Divine Providence credible to 
many who did not believe the good Heaven quite 
honest. Every man was an abolitionist by convic- 
tion, but did not believe that his neighbor was. 
The opinions of masses of men, which the tactics of 
primary caucuses and the proverbial timidity of 
trade had concealed, the war discovered ; and it 
was found, contrary to aU popular belief, that the 
country was at heart abolitionist, and for the Union 
was ready to die. 

As cities of men are the first effects of civillza' 
tion, and also instantly causes of more civilization, 
so armies, which are only wandering cities, gener- 
ate a vast heat, and lift the spirit of the soldiers 
who compose them to the boiling point. The ar- 
mies mustered in the North were as much mis- 
sionaries to the mind of the country as they were 
carriers of "material force, and had the vast advan- 
tage of carrying whither they marched a higher 
civilization. Of course, there are noble men every- 
where, and there are such in the South ; and the 
noble know the noble, wherever they meet ; and 
we have all heard passages of generous and excep- 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 107 

tional behavior exliibited by individuals tbere to 
our officers and men, during the war. But the 
common people, rich or poor, were the narrowest 
and most conceited of mankind, as arrogant as the 
negroes on the Gambia River; and, by the way, it 
looks as if the editors of the Southern press were 
in all times selected from this class. The invasion 
of Northern farmers, mechanics, engineers, trades- 
men, lawyers and students did more than forty 
years of peace had done to educate the South. 
"This will be a slow business," writes our Con- 
cord captain home, " for we have to stop and civil- 
ize the people as we go along." 

It is an interesting part of the history, the man- 
ner in which this incongruous militia were made 
soldiers. That was done again on the Kansas ]3lan. 
Our farmers went to Kansas as peaceable, God- 
fearing: men as the members of our school-commit- 
tee here. But when the Border raids were let 
loose on their villages, these people, who turned 
pale at home if called to dress a cut finger, on wit- 
nessing the butchery done by the Missouri riders 
on women and babes, were so beside themselves 
with rage, that they became on the instant the 
bravest soldiers and the most determined avengers. 
And the first events of the war of the Rebellion 
gave the like training to the new recruits. 

All sorts of men went to the war, — the roughs, 



108 ADDRESS. 

men who liked harsh play and vlolenee, men for 
whom pleasure was not strong enough, but who 
wanted pain, and found sphere at last for their 
superabundant energy ; then the adventurous type 
of New Englander, with his appetite for novelty 
and travel ; the village politician, who could now 
verify his newsjDaper knowledge, see the South, and 
amass what a stock of adventures to retail hereafter 
at the fireside, or to the well-known companions on 
the Mill-dam ; young men, also, of excellent educa- 
tion and polished manners, delicately brought up ; 
manly farmers, skilful mechanics, young tradesmen, 
men hitherto of narrow opportunities of knowing 
the world, but well taught in the grammar-schools. 
But perhaps in every one of these classes were ideal- 
ists, men who went from a religious duty. I have 
a note of a conversation that occurred in our first 
company, the morning before the battle of Bull 
Run. At a halt in the march, a few of our boys 
were sitting on a rail fence talking together whether 
it was right to sacrifice themselves. One of them 
said, " he had been thinking a good deal about it, 
last night, and he thought one was never too young 
to die for a principle." One of our later volun- 
teers, on the day when he left home, in reply to my 
question, How can you be spared from your farm, 
now that your father is so ill? said: " I go because 
I shall always be sorry if I did not go when the 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 109 

country called me. I can go as well as another." 
One wrote to his father these words : — " You may 
think it strange that I, who have always naturally 
rather shrimk from danger, should wish to enter 
the army ; but there is a higher Power that tunes 
the hearts of men, and enables them to see their 
duty, and gives them courage to face the dangers 
with which those duties are attended." And the 
captain writes home of another of his men, — 

"B comes from a sense of duty and love of 

country, and these are the soldiers you can depend 
upon." 

None of us can have forgotten how sharp a test 
to try our peaceful people with, was the first call 
for troops. I doubt not many of our soldiers could 
repeat the confession of a youth whom I knew 
in the beginning of the war, who enlisted in New 
York, went to the field, and died early. Before liis 
departure he confided to his sister that he was nat- 
urally a coward, but was determined that no one 
should ever find it out ; that he had long trained 
himself by forcing himself, on the suspicion of any 
near danger, to go directly up to it, cost him what 
struggles it might. Yet it is from this tempera- 
ment of sensibility that great heroes have been 
formed. 

Our first company was led by an officer who had 
grown up in this village from a boy. The older 



110 ADDRESS. 

among ns can well remember him at school, at play 
and at work, all the way iij), the most amiable, sen- 
sible, unj^retending of men ; fair, blonde, the rose 
lived long in his cheek ; grave, but social, and one 
of the last men in this tovm you would have picked 
out for the rough dealing of war, — not a trace of 
fierceness, much less of recklessness, or of the de- 
vouring thirst for excitement ; tender as a woman 
in his care for a coiigh or a chilblain in his men ; 
had troches and arnica in his pocket for them. The 
army officers were welcome to their jest on him as 
too kind for a captain, and, later, as the colonel who 
got off his horse when he saw one of his men limp 
on the march, and told him to ride. But he knew 
that his men had found out, first that he was cap- 
tain, then that he was colonel, and neither dared nor 
wished to disobey him. He was a man without 
conceit, who never fancied himself a philosopher or 
a saint ; the most modest and amiable of men, en- 
gaged in common duties, but equal always to the 
occasion ; and the war showed him still equal, how- 
ever stern and terrible the occasion grew, — dis- 
closed in him a strong good sense, great fertility of 
resource, the helping hand, and then the moral 
qualities of a commander, — a patience not to be 
tired out, a serious devotion to the cause of the 
country that never swerved, a hope that never 
failed. He was a Puritan in the army, with traits 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. Ill 

that remind one of Jolin Brown, — an integrity in- 
corruptible, and an ability that always rose to the 
need. 

You will remember that these colonels, captains 
and lieutenants, and the privates too, are domestic 
men, just wrenched away from their families and 
their business by this rally of all the manhood in 
the land. They have notes to pay at home ; have 
farms, shops, factories, affairs of every kind to 
think of and write home about. Consider what 
sacrifice and havoc in business arrangements this 
war-blast made. They have to think carefully of 
every last resource at home on which their wives 
or mothers may fall back ; upon the little account 
in the savings-bank, the grass that can be sold, the 
old cow, or the heifer. These necessities make the 
topics of the ten thousand letters with which the 
mail-bags came loaded day by day. These letters 
play a great part in the war. The writing of letters 
made the Simday in every camp : — meantime they 
are without the means of writing. After the first 
marches there is no letter-paper, there are no envel- 
opes, no postage-stamps, for these were wetted into 
a solid mass in the rains and mud. Some of these 
letters are written on the back of old bills, some on 
brown paper, or strips of newspaper; written by 
firelight, making the short night shorter ; written 
on the knee, in the mud, with pencil, six words at 



112 ADDRESS. 

a time ; or in the saddle, and have to stop because 
the horse will not stand still. But the words are 
proud and tender, — " Tell mother I will not dis- 
grace her ; " " tell her not to worry about me, for 
I know she would not have had me stay at home if 
she could as well as not." The letters of the cap- 
tain are the dearest treasures of this town. Always 
devoted, sometimes anxious, sometimes full of joy 
at the deportment of his comrades, they contain the 
sincere praise of men whom I now see in this as- 
sembly. If Marshal Montluc's Memoirs are the 
Bible of soldiers, as Henry IV. of France said, Col-: 
onel Prescott might furnish the Book of Epistles. 

He writes, " You don't know how one gets at- 
tached to a company by living with them and sleep- 
ing with them all the time. I know every man 
by heart. I know every man's weak spot, — who 
is shaky, and who is true blue." He never remits 
his care of the men, aiming to hold them to their 
good habits and to keep them cheerful. For the 
first point, he keeps up a constant acquaintance 
with them ; urges their correspondence with their 
friends ; writes news of them home, urging his 
own correspondent to visit their families and keep 
them informed about the men ; encourages a tem- 
perance society which is formed in the camp. " I 
have not had a man drunk, or affected by liquor, 
since we came here." At one time he finds his 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 113 

company unfortunate in having fallen between two 
companies of quite another class, — " 't is profanity 
all the time : yet instead of a bad influence on our 
men, I think it works the other way, — it disgusts 
them." 

One day he writes : "I expect to have a time, 
this forenoon, with the officer from West Point who 
drills us. He is very profane, and I will not stand 
it. If he does not stop it, I shall march my men 
right away when he is drilling them. There is a 
fine for officers swearing in the army, and I have 
too many young men that are not used to such talk. 
I told the colonel this morning I should do it, and 
shall, — don't care what the consequence is. This 
lieutenant seems to think that these men who never 
saw a gun, can drill as well as he, who has been at 
"West Point four years." At night he adds : " I 
told that officer from West Point, this morning, 
that he could not swear at my company as he did 
yesterday ; told him I would not stand it any way. 
I told him I had a good many young men in my 
company whose mothers asked me to look after 
them, and I should do so, and not allow them to 
hear such language, especially from an officer, 
whose duty it was to set them a better example. 
Told him I did not swear myseK and would not 
allow him to. He looked at me as much as to say, 
Do you know whom you are talking to f and I 



114 ADDRESS. 

looked at him as much as to say, Jes, / do. He 
looked rather ashamed, but went through the drill 
without an oath." So much for the care of their 
morals. His next point is to keep them cheerful. 
'T is better than medicine. He has games of base- 
ball, and pitching quoits, and euchre, whilst part of 
the military discipline is sham-fights. 

The best men heartily second him, and invent 
excellent means of their own. When, afterwards, 
five of these men were prisoners in the Parish 
Prison in New Orleans, they set themselves to use 
the time to the wisest advantage, — formed a de- 
bating club, wrote a daily or weekly newspaper, 
called it " Stars and Stripes." It advertises, 
" prayer meeting at 7 o'clock, in cell No. 8, second 
floor," and their own printed record is a proud and 
affecting narrative. 

Whilst the regiment was encamped at Camp An- 
drew, near Alexandria, in June, 1861, marching 
orders came. Colonel Lawrence sent for eight 
wagons, but only tlu-ee came. On these they loaded 
all the canvas of the tents, but took no tent-poles. 

"It looked very much like a severe thunder- 
storm," writes the captain, " and I knew the men 
would all have to sleep out of doors, unless we car- 
ried them. So I took six poles, and went to the 
colonel, and told him I had got the poles for two 
tents, which would cover twenty-four men, and un- 



SOLDIERS' I\rONUMENT, CONCORD. 115 

less he ordered me not to carry tliem, I should do 
so. He said he had no objection, only thought they 
would be too much for me. We only had about 
twelve men " (the rest of the company being, per- 
haps, on picket or other duty), " and some of them 
have their heavy knapsacks and guns to carry, so 
could not carry any poles. We started and marched 
two miles without stopping to rest, not having had 
anything to eat, and being very hot and dry." At 
this time Captain Prescott was daily threatened 
with sickness, and suffered the more from this heat. 
" I told Lieutenant Bowers, this morning, that I 
could afford to be sick from bringing the tent-poles, 
for it saved the whole regiment from sleeping out 
doors ; for they would not have thought of it, if I 
had not taken mine. The major had tried to dis- 
courage me ; — said, ' perhaps, if I carried them 
over, some other company would get them ; ' — I 
told him, perhaps he did not think I was smart." 
He had the satisfaction to see the whole regiment 
enjoying the protection of these tents. 

In the disastrous battle of Bull Kun this com- 
pany behaved well, and the regimental officers be- 
lieved, what is now the general conviction of the 
country, that the misfortunes of the day were not 
so much owing to the fault of the troops, as to the 
insufficiency of the combinations by the general 
officers. It happened, also, that the Fifth Massar 



116 ADDRESS. 

chusetts was almost unofficerecl. The colonel was, 
early in the day, disabled by a casualty ; the lieu- 
tenant-colonel, the major and the adjutant were 
already transferred to new regiments, and their 
places were not yet filled. The three months of 
the enlistment expired a few days after the battle. 

In the fall of 1861, the old Artillery company of 
this town was reorganized, and Captain Richard 
Barrett received a commission in March, 1862, 
from the State, as its commander. This company, 
chiefly recruited here, was later embodied in the 
Forty-seventh Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, 
enlisted as nine months' men, and sent to New Or- 
leans, where they were employed in guard duty 
during their term of service. Captain Humphrey 
H. Buttrick, lieutenant in this regiment, as he had 
been ali'eady lieutenant in Captain Prescott's com- 
pany in 1861, went out again in August, 1864, a 
captain in the Fifty-ninth Massachusetts, and saw 
hard service in the Ninth Corps, under General 
Burnside. The regiment being formed of veterans, 
and in fields requiring great activity and exposure, 
suffered extraordinary losses ; Captain Buttrick 
and one other officer being the only officers in it 
who were neither killed, wounded, nor captured. 
In August, 1862, on the new requisition for troops, 
when it was becoming difficult to meet the draft, — 
mainly through the personal example and influence 



SOLDrERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 117 

of Mr. Sylvester Lovejoy, twelve men, including 
himself, were enlisted for three years, and, being 
soon after enrolled in the Fortieth Massachusetts, 
went to the war ; and a very good account has been 
heard, not only of the regiment, but of the talents 
and virtues of these men. 

After the return of the three months' company 
to Concord, in 1861, Captain Prescott raised a new 
company of volunteers, and Captain Bowers an- 
other. Each of these companies included recruits 
from this town, and they formed part of the Thir- 
ty-second Kegiment of Massachusetts Volunteers. 
Enlisting for three years, and remaining to the end 
of the war, these troops saw every variety of hard 
service which the war offered, and, though suffering 
at first some disadvantage from change of com- 
manders, and from severe losses, they grew at last, 
imder the command of Colonel Prescott, to an ex- 
cellent reputation, attested by the names of the 
thirty battles they were authorized to inscribe on 
their flag, and by the important position usually 
assigned them in the field. 

I have found many notes of their rough experi- 
ence in the march and in the field. In McClellan's 
retreat in the Peninsula, in July, 1862, " it is all 
our men can do to draw their feet out of the mud. 
We marched one mile through mud, without exag- 
geration, one foot deep, — a good deal of the way 



118 ADDRESS. 

over my boots, and with short rations ; on one day 
nothing but liver, blackberries, and pennyroyal 
tea." — " At Fredericksburg we lay eleven hours 
in one spot without moving, except to rise and 
fire." The next note is, " cracker for a day and 
a half, — but all right." Another day, " had not 
left the ranks for thirty hours, and the nights were 
broken by frequent alarms. How would Concord 
people," he asks, " like to pass the night on the 
battle-field, and hear the dying cry for help, and 
not be able to go to them ? " But the regiment did 
good service at Harrison's Landing, and at Antie- 
tam, under Colonel Parker ; and at Fredericks- 
burg, in December, Lieutenant-Colonel Prescott 
loudly expresses his satisfaction at his comrades, 
now and then particularizing names : " Bowers, 
Shepard and Lauriat are as brave as lions." 

At the battle of Gettysburg, in Jidy, 1863, the 
brigade of which the Thirty-second Regiment formed 
a part, was in line of battle seventy-two hours, and 
suffered severely. Colonel Prescott's regiment 
went in with two hundred and ten men, nineteen 
officers. On the second of July they had to cross 
the famous wheat-field, under fire from the rebels 
in front and on both flanks. Seventy men were 
killed or wounded out of seven companies. Here 
Francis Buttrick, whose manly beauty all of us re- 
member, and Sergeant Appleton, an excellent sol- 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 119 

dier, were fatally wounded. The colonel was bit 
by three bullets. " I feel," he writes, " I have 
much to be thankful for that my life is spared, al- 
though I would willingly die to have the regiment 
do as well as they have done. Our colors had sev- 
eral holes made, and were badly torn. One bullet 
hit the staff which the bearer had in his hand. The 
color-bearer is brave as a lion ; he will go anywhere 
you say, and no questions asked ; his name is Mar- 
shall Dnvis." The Colonel took evident pleasure 
in the fact that he could account for all his men. 
There were so many killed, so many wounded, — 
but no missing. For that word " missing " was apt 
to mean skulking. Another incident : " A friend 
of Lieutenant Barrow complains that we did not 
treat his body with respect, inasmuch as we did not 
send it home. I think we were very fortunate to 
save it at all, for in ten minutes after he was killed 
the rebels occupied the ground, and we had to 
carry him and all of our wounded nearly two miles 
in blankets. There was no place nearer than Bal- 
timore where we could have got a coffin, and I sup- 
pose it was eighty miles there. We laid him in 
two double blankets, and then sent off a long dis- 
tance and got boards off a barn to make the best 
coffin we could, and gave him burial." 

After Gettysburg, Colonel Prescott remarks that 
our regiment is highly complimented. When Col- 



120 ADDRESS. 

onel Gvirney, of the Ninth, came to him the next 
day to tell him that " folks are just beginning to 
appreciate the Thirty-second Regiment : it always 
was a good regiment, and people are just beginning 
to find it out ; " Colonel Prescott notes in his jour- 
nal, — " Pity they have not found it out before it 
was all gone. We have a hundred and seventy- 
seven guns this morning." 

Let me add an extract from the official report of 
the brigade commander : " Word was sent by Gen- 
eral Barnes, that, when we retired, we should fall 
back under cover of the woods. This order was 
commimicated to Colonel Prescott, whose regiment 
was then under the hottest fire. Understanding it 
to be a peremptory order to retire them, he replied, 
' I don't want to retire ; I am not ready to retire ; 
I can hold this place ; ' and he made good his as- 
sertion. Being informed that he misunderstood 
the order, which was only to inform him how to 
retire when it became necessary, he was satisfied, 
and he and his command held their ground man- 
fully." It was said that Colonel Prescott's reply, 
when reported, pleased the Acting Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Sweitzer mightily. 

After Gettysburg, the Thirty-second Regiment 
saw hard service at Raj)pahannock Station ; and at 
Baltimore, in Virginia, where they were drawn up 
in battle order for ten days successively : crossing 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 121 

the Rapidan, and suffering from sucli extreme cold, 
a few days later, at Mine Run, that the men were 
compelled to break rank and run in circles to keep 
themselves from being frozen. On the third of 
December, they went into winter quarters. 

I must not follow the multiplied details that 
make the hard work of the next year. But the 
campaign in the Wilderness surpassed all their 
worst experience hitherto of the soldier's life. On 
the third of May, they crossed the Rapidan for the 
fifth time. On the twelfth, at Laurel Hill, the 
regiment had twenty-one killed and seventy-five 
wounded, including five officers. " The regiment 
has been in the front and centre since the battle 
begTin, eight and a half days ago, and is now build- 
ing breastworks on the Fredericksburg road. This 
has been the hardest fight the world ever knew. I 
think the loss of our army will be forty thousand. 
Every day, for the last eight days, there has been 
a terrible battle the whole length of the line. One 
day they drove us ; but it has been regular bull- 
dog fighting." On the twenty-first, they had been, 
for seventeen days and nights, under arms without 
rest. On the twenty-third, they crossed the North 
Anna, and achieved a great success. On the thir- 
tieth, we learn, " Our regiment has never been in 
the second line since we crossed the Rapidan, on 
the third." On the night of the thirtieth, — " The 



122 ADDRESS. 

hardest clay we ever had. We have been in the 
first line twenty-six days, and fighting every day 
but two ; whilst your newsj)apers talk of the inac- 
tivity of the Army of the Potomac. If those writ- 
ers could be here and fight all day, and sleep in 
the trenches, and be called up several times in the 
night by picket-firing, they would not call it inac- 
tive." June fourth is marked in the diary as "An 
awful day ; — two hundred men lost to the com- 
mand ; " and not until the fifth of June comes at 
last a respite for a short space, during which the 
men drew shoes and socks, and the officers were 
able to send to the wagons and procure a change 
of clothes, for the first time in five weeks. 

But from these incessant labors there was now to 
be rest for one head, — the honored and beloved 
commander of the regiment. On the sixteenth of 
June, tbey crossed the James River, and marched 
to within three miles of Petersburg. Early in the 
morning of the eighteenth they went to the front, 
formed line of battle, and were ordered to take the 
Norfolk and Petersburg Railroad from the Rebels. 
In this charge. Colonel George L. Prescott was 
mortally wounded. After driving the enemy from 
the railroad, crossing it, and clunbing the farther 
bank to continue the charge, he was struck, in front 
of his command, by a musket ball which entered 
his breast near the heart. He was carried off the 



SOLDIERS' MONUMENT, CONCORD. 123 

field to the division hospital, and died on the fol- 
lowing morning. On his death-bed, he received 
the needless assurances of his general, that " he had 
done more than all his duty," — needless to a con- 
science so faithful and unspotted. One of his towns- 
men and comrades, a sergeant in his regiment, writ- 
ing to his own family, uses these words : " He was 
one of the few men who fight for principle. He 
did not fight for glory, honor, nor money, but be- 
cause he thought it his duty. These are not my 
feelings only, but of the whole regiment." 

On the first of January, 1865, the Thirty-second 
Regiment made itself comfortable in log huts, a 
mile south of our rear line of works before Peters- 
burg. On the fourth of February, sudden orders 
came to move next morning at daylight. At Dab- 
ney's Mills, in a sharp fight, they lost seventy-four 
in killed, wounded and missing. Here Major Shep- 
ard was taken prisoner. The lines were held until 
the tenth, with more than usual suffering from snow 
and hail and Intense cold, added to the annoyance 
of the artillery fire. On the first of April, the reg- 
iment connected with Sheridan's cavalry, near the 
Five Forks, and took an important part in that bat- 
tle which opened Petersburg and Richmond, and 
forced the surrender of Lee. On the ninth, they 
marched in support of the cavalry, and were advan- 
cing in a grand charge, when the white flag of Gen. 



124 ADDRESS. 

Lee appeared. The brigade of which the Thirty- 
second Regiment formed part was detailed to receive 
the formal surrender of the Rebel arms. The home- 
ward march began on the thirteenth, and the regi- 
ment was mustered out in the field, at Washington, 
on the twenty-eighth of June, and arrived in Bos- 
ton on the first of Jidy. 

Fellow-citizens : The obelisk records only the 
names of the dead. There is something partial in 
this distribution of honor. Those who went through 
those dreadful fields and returned not, deserve 
much more than all the honor we can pay. But 
those also who went through the same fields and 
returned alive, put just as much at hazard as those 
who died, and, in other countries, would wear dis- 
tinctive badges of honor as long as they lived. I 
hope the disuse of such medals or badges in this 
country only signifies that everybody knows these 
men, and carries their deed in such lively remem- 
brance that they require no badge or reminder. I 
am sure I need not bespeak your gratitude to these 
fellow-citizens and neighbors of ours. I hope they 
will be content with the laurels of one war. 

But let me, in behalf of this assembly, sjjeak 
directly to you, our defenders, and say, that it is 
easy to see that if danger should ever threaten the 
homes which you guard, the knowledge of your 



APPENDIX. 125 

presence will be a wall of fire for their protection. 
Brave men ! you will liardly be called to see again 
fields as terrible as those you have already trampled 
with your victories. 

There are people who can hardly read the names 
on yonder bronze tablet, the mist so gathers in their 
eyes. Three of the names are of sons of one family. 
A gloom gathers on this assembly, composed as it 
is of kindred men and women, for, in many houses, 
the dearest and noblest is gone from their hearth- 
stone. Yet it is tinged with light from heaven. A 
duty so severe has been discharged, and with such 
immense results of good, lifting private sacrifice to 
the sublime, that, though the cannon volleys have 
a sound of funeral echoes, they can yet hear 
through them the benedictions of their country and 
mankind. 



APPENDIX. 



In the above Address I have been compelled to 
suppress more details of personal interest than I 
have used. But I do not like to omit the testimony 
to the character of the Commander of the Thirty- 
second Massachusetts Regiment, given in the fol- 
lowing letter by one of his soldiers : — 



126 APPENDIX. 

Near Petebsbukg, VntGiinA, 

June 20, 1864. 
Dear Father : 

With feelings of deep regret, I inform you that Colo- 
nel Prescott, our brave and lamented leader, is no more. 
He was shot through the body, near the heart, on the 
eighteenth day of June, and died the following morning. 
On the morning of the eighteenth, our division was not in 
line. Reveille was at an early hour, and before long we 
were moving to the front. Soon we passed the ground 
where the Ninth Corps drove the enemy from their forti- 
fied lines, and came upon and formed our line in rear of 
Crawford's Division. In front of us, and one mile dis- 
tant, the Rebels' hues of works could be seen. Between 
us and them, and in a deep gulley, was the Norfolk and 
Petersburg railroad. Soon the order came for us to take 
the railroad from the enemy, whose advance then held it. 
Four regiments of our brigade were to head the charge ; 
so the 32d Massachusetts, 62d, 91st and 155th Penn- 
sylvania regiments, under command of Colonel Gregory, 
moved forward in good order, the enemy keeping up a 
steady fii-e all the time. AU went weU till we reached 
the road. The Rebels left when they saw us advance, 
and, when we reached the road, they were running away. 
But here our troubles began. The banks, on each side 
of the road, were about thirty feet high, and, being stiff 
clay, were nearly perpendicular. We got down well 
enough, because we got started, and were rolled to the 
bottom, a confused pile of Yanks. Now to climb the 
other side ! It was impossible to get up by climbing, for 



APPENDIX. 127 

the side of it was like the side of a house. By dint of 
getting on each other's shoulders and making holes for 
our feet with bayonets, a few of us got up ; reacliing 
our guns down to the others, we all finally got over. 
Meanwhile, a storm of bullets was rained upon us. 
Through it all, Colonel Prescott was cool and collected, 
encouraging the men to do their best. After we were 
almost all across, he moved out in front of the line, and 
called the men out to him, saying, " Come on, men ; form 
our line here." The color-bearer stepped towards him, 
when a bullet struck the Colonel, passed through him, 
and wounded the color-bearer. Sergeant Giles, of Com- 
pany G. Calmly the Colonel turned, and said, " I am 
wounded ; some one helj) me off." A sergeant of Com- 
pany B, and one of the 21st Pennsylvania, helped him 
off. This man told me, last night, all that the Colonel 
said, while going off. He was afraid we would be driven 
back, and wanted these men to stick by him. He said, 
" I die for my country." He seemed to be conscious that 
death was near to him, and said the wound was near his 
heart; wanted the sergeant of Company B, to write to 
his family, and tell them all about him. He will write 
to Mrs. Prescott, probably ; but if they do not hear from 
some one an account of his death, I wish you would show 
this to Mrs. Prescott. He died in the division hospital, 
night before last, and his remains will probably be sent 
to Concord. We lament his loss in the regiment very 
much. He was like a father to us, — always counselling 
us to be firm in the path of duty, and setting the exam- 
ple himself. I think a more moral man, or one more 



128 APPENDIX. 

likely to enter the kingdom of heaven, cannot be found 
in the Ai'my of the Potomac. No man ever heard him 
swear, or saw him use liquor, since we were in the ser- 
vice. I wish there was some way for the regiment to 
pay some ti'ibute to his memory. But the folks at home 
must do this for the present. The Thirty-second Regi- 
ment has lost its leader, and calls on the people of Con- 
cord to console the afflicted famUy of the brave departed, 
by showing their esteem for him in some manner. He 
was one of the few men who fight for principle, — pure 
principle. He did not fight for glory, honor nor money, 
but because he thought it his duty. These are not my 
feelings only, but of the whole regiment. I want you to 
show this to every one, so they can see what we thought 
of the Colonel, and how he died in front of his regiment. 
God bless and comfort his poor family. Perhaps people 
think soldiers have no feeling, but it is not so. We feel 
deep anxiety for the families of all our dear comrades. 
Charles Bartlett, 
Sergeant Company G, 
Thirty-secotid Massachusetts Volunteers. 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED IN CONCORD ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE EMAN- 
CIPATION OF THE NEGROES IN THE BRITISH WEST 
INDIJIS, AUGUST 1, 1844. 



ADDRESS 

ON EMANCIPATION IN THE BRITISH WEST INDIES. 



Friends and Fellow Citizens : 

We are met to exchange congratulations on the 
anniversary of an event singular in the history of 
civilization ; a day of reason ; of the clear light ; 
of that which makes us better than a flock of birds 
and beasts : a day which gave the immense fortifi- 
cation of a fact, of gross history, to ethical abstrac- 
tions. It was the settlement, as far as a great Em- 
pire was concerned, of a question on which almost 
every leading citizen in it had taken care to record 
his vote ; one which for many years absorbed the 
attention of the best and most eminent of mankind. 
I might well hesitate, coming from other studies, 
and without the smallest claim to be a special la- 
borer in this work of humanity, to undertake to set 
this matter before you ; which ought rather to be 
done by a strict co-operation of many well-advised 
persons ; but I shall not apologize for my weakness. 
In this cause, no man's weakness is any prejudice : 
it has a thousand sons ; if one man cannot speak, 



132 ADDRESS. 

ten others can; and, whether by the wisdom of 
its friends, or by the folly of the adversaries ; by 
speech and by silence ; by doing and by omitting 
to do, it goes forward. Therefore I will speak, — 
or, not I, but the might of liberty in my weakness. 
The subject is said to have the property of making 
dull men eloquent. 

It has been in all men's experience a marked 
effect of the enterprise in behaK of the African, to 
generate an overbearing and defying sj^irit. The 
institution of slavery seems to its opponent to have 
but one side, and he feels that none but a stupid 
or a malignant person can hesitate on a view of the 
facts. Under such an impulse, I was about to say. 
If any cannot speak, or cannot hear the words of 
freedom, let him go hence, — I had almost said, 
Creep into your grave, the universe has no need of 
you ! But I have thought better : let him not go. 
When we consider what remains to be done for 
this interest in this country, the dictates of human- 
ity make us tender of such as are not yet per- 
suaded. The hardest selfishness is to be borne 
with. Let us withhold every reproachful, and, if 
we can, every indignant remark. In this cause, we 
must renounce our temper, and the risings of pride. 
If there be any man who thinks the ruin of a race 
of men a small matter, compared with the last deco- 
ration and completions of his own comfort, — who 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 133 

would not so mucli as part with lils ice-cream, to 
save them from rapine and manacles, I think I 
must not hesitate to satisfy that man that also his 
cream and vanilla are safer and cheaper by placing 
the negro nation on a fair footing, than by robbing 
them. If the Virginian piques himself on the pic- 
turesque luxury of his vassalage, on the heavy 
Ethiopian manners of his house-servants, their si- 
lent obedience, their hue of bronze, their turbaned 
heads, and would not exchange them for the more 
intelligent but precarious hired service of whites, I 
shall not refuse to show him that when their free- 
papers are made out, it wiU still be their interest 
to remain on his estate, and that the oldest plant- 
ers of Jamaica are convinced that it is cheaper to 
pay wages than to own the slave. 

The history of mankind interests us only as it 
exhibits a steady gain of truth and right, in the 
incessant conflict which it records between the 
material and the moral nature. From the earliest 
monuments it appears that one race was victim and 
served the other races. In the oldest temples of 
Egypt, negro captives are painted on the tombs of 
kings, in such attitudes as to show that they are 
on the point of being executed ; and Herodotus, 
our oldest historian, relates that the Troglodytes 
hunted the Ethiopians in four-horse chariots. From 
the earliest time, the negro has been an article of 



134 ADDRESS. 

luxury to the commercial nations. So has it been, 
down to the day that has just dawned on the world. 
Language must be raked, the secrets of slaughter- 
houses and infamous holes that cannot front the 
day, must be ransacked, to tell what negro-slavery 
has been. These men, our benefactors, as they are 
producers of corn and wine, of coffee, of tobacco, 
of cotton, of sugar, of rum and brandy ; gentle and 
joyous themselves, and producers of comfort and 
luxury for the civilized world, — there seated in the 
finest climates of the globe, children of the sun, — 
I am heart-sick when I read how they came there, 
and how they are kept there. Their case was left 
out of the mind and out of the heart of their broth- 
ers. The prizes of society, the trumpet of fame, the 
privileges of learning, of culture, of religion, the 
decencies and joys of marriage, honor, obedience, 
personal authority and a perpetual melioration into 
a finer civility, — these were for all, but not for 
them. For the negro, was the slave-ship to begin 
with, in whose filthy hold he sat in irons, unable to 
lie down ; bad food, and insufficiency of that ; dis- 
franchisement ; no property in the rags that cov- 
ered him ; no marriage, no right in the poor black 
woman that cherished him in her bosom, no right 
to the children of his body ; no security from the 
humors, none from the crimes, none from the appe- 
tites of his master: toil, famine, insult and flog- 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 135 

ging ; and, when he sank in the furrow, no wind of 
good fame blew over him, no priest of salvation 
visited him with glad tidings: but he went down 
to death with dusky dreams of African shadow- 
catchers and Obeahs hunting him. Very sad was 
the negro tradition, that the Great Spirit, in the 
beginning, offered the black man, whom he loved 
better than the buckra, or white, his choice of two 
boxes, a big and a little one. The black man was 
greedy, and chose the largest. " The buckra box 
was full up with pen, paper and whip, and the 
negro box with hoe and bill ; and hoe and bill for 
negro to this day." 

But the crude element of good in hmnan affairs 
must work and ripen, spite of whips and plantation- 
laws and West Indian interest. Conscience rolled 
on its pillow, and could not sleep. We sympathize 
very tenderly here with the poor aggrieved planter, 
of whom so many unpleasant things are said ; but 
if we saw the whip applied to old men, to tender 
women ; and, undeniably, though I shrink to say 
so, pregnant women set in the treadmill for re- 
fusing to work ; when, not they, but the eternal 
law of animal nature refused to work ; — if we saw 
men's backs flayed with cowhides, and " hot rum 
poured on, superinduced with brine or pickle, 
rubbed in with a cornhusk, in the scorching heat 
of the sun ; " — if we saw the runaways hunted 



136 ADDRESS. 

with blood-hounds into swamps and hills ; and, in 
cases of passion, a planter throwing his negro into 
a copper of boiling cane-juice, — if we saw these 
things with eyes, we too should wince. They are 
not pleasant sights. The blood is moral : the blood 
is anti-slavery : it runs cold in the veins : the stom- 
ach rises with disgust, and curses slavery. Well, so 
it happened ; a good man or woman, a country boy 
or girl, — it would so fall out, — once in a while 
saw these injuries and had the indiscretion to tell 
of them. The horrid story ran and flew ; the winds 
blew it all over the world. They who heard it 
asked their rich and great friends if it was true, or 
only missionary lies. The richest and greatest, the 
prime minister of England, the king's privy coun- 
cil were obliged to say that it was too true. It 
became plain to all men, the more this business was 
looked into, that the crimes and cruelties of the 
slave-traders and slave-owners could not be over- 
stated. The more it was searched, the more shock- 
ing anecdotes came up, — things not to be spoken. 
Humane persons who were informed of the reports, 
insisted on proving them. Granville Sharpe was 
accidentally made acquainted with the sufferings of 
a slave, whom a West Indian planter had brought 
with him to London and had beaten with a pistol 
on his head, so badly that his whole body became 
diseased, and the man useless to his master, who 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 137 

left Iiim to go whither he pleased. The man applied 
to Mr. William Sharpe, a charitable surgeon, who 
attended the diseases of the poor. In process of 
time, he was healed. Granville Sharpe found him 
at his brother's and procured a place for him in an 
apothecary's shop. The master accidentally met 
his recovered slave, and instantly endeavored to 
get possession of him again. Sharpe protected the 
slave. In consulting with the lawyers, they told 
Sharpe the laws were against him. Sharpe would 
not believe it ; no prescription on earth could ever 
render such iniquities legal. ' But the decisions are 
against you, and Lord Mansfield, now Chief Justice 
of England, leans to the decisions.' Sharpe in- 
stantly sat down and gave himself to the study of 
English law for more than two years, until he had 
proved that the opinions relied on, of Talbot and 
Yorke, were incompatible with the former English 
decisions and with the whole spirit of English law. 
He published his book in 1769, and he so filled the 
heads and hearts of his advocates that when he 
brought the case of George Somerset, another slave, 
before Lord Mansfield, the slavish decisions were 
set aside, and equity affirmed. There is a sparkle 
of God's righteousness in Lord Mansfield's judg- 
ment, which does the heart good. Very unwilling 
had that great lawyer been to reverse the late de- 
cisions ; he suggested twice from the bench, in the 



138 ADDRESS. 

course of the trial, how the question might be got 
rid of : but the hint was not taken ; the case was 
adjoui'necl again and again, and judgment delayed. 
At last judgment was demanded, and on the 22d 
June, 1772, Lord Mansfield is reported to have de- 
cided in these words : — 

"Immemorial usage preserves the memory of 
positive lawy long after all traces of the occasion, 
reason, authority and time of its introduction, are 
lost ; and in a case so odious as the condition of 
slaves, must be taken strictly ; (tracing the subject 
to natural princijjles, the claim of slavery never 
can be supported.) The power claimed by this 
return never was in use here. We cannot say the 
cause set forth by this return is allowed or approved 
of by the laws of this kingdom ; and therefore the 
man must be discharged." 

This decision established the principle that the 
''air of England is too pure for any slave to 
breathe," but the wrongs in the islands were not 
thereby touched. Public attention, however, was 
drawn that way, and the methods of the stealing 
and the transportation from Africa became noised 
abroad. The Quakers got the story. In their 
plain meeting-houses and prim dwellings this dis- 
mal agitation got entrance. They were rich : they 
owned, for debt or by inheritance, island prop- 
erty ; they were religious, tender-hearted men and 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 139 

women ; and they had to hear the news and. di- 
gest it as they coukl. Six Quakers met in Lon- 
don on the 6th July, 1783, — William Dillwyn, 
Samuel Hoar, George Harrison, Thomas Knowles, 
John Lloyd, Joseph Woods, " to consider what step 
they should take for the relief and liberation of the 
negro slaves in the West Indies, and for the discour- 
agement of the slave-trade on the coast of Africa." 
They made friends and raised money for the slave ; 
they interested their Yearly Meeting ; and all Eng- 
lish and all American Quakers. John Woolman 
of New Jersey, whilst yet an apprentice, was un- 
easy in his mind when he was set to write a bill of 
sale of a negro, for his master. He gave his testi- 
mony against the traffic, in Maryland and Virginia. 
Thomas Clarkson was a youth at Cambridge, Eng- 
land, when the subject given out for a Latin prize 
dissertation was, " Is it right to make slaves of 
others against their will? " He wrote an essay, and 
won the prize ; but he wrote too well for his own 
peace ; he began to ask himself if these things 
coidd be true ; and if they were, he could no longer 
rest. He left Cambridge ; he fell in with the six 
Quakers. They engaged him to act for them. He 
himself interested Mr. Wilberf orce in the matter. 
The shipmasters in that trade were the greatest 
miscreants, and guilty of every barbarity to their 
own crews. Clarkson went to Bristol, made him- 



140 ADDRESS. 

self aeqiiainted with the interior of the slave-ships 
and the details of the trade. The facts confirmed 
his sentiment, " that Providence had never made 
that to be wise which was immoral, and that the 
slave-trade was as impolitic as it was unjust ; " 
that it was found peculiarly fatal to those employed 
in it. More seamen died in that trade in one year 
than in the whole remaining trade of the country 
in two. Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox were drawn into 
the generous enterprise. In 1788, the House of 
Commons voted Parliamentary inquiry. In 1791, 
a bill to abolish the trade was brought in by Wil- 
berforce, and supported by him and by Fox and 
Burke and Pitt, with the utmost ability and faith- 
fulness ; resisted by the planters and the whole 
West Indian interest, and lost. During the next 
sixteen years, ten times, year after year, the attempt 
was renewed by Mr. AVilberforce, and ten times 
defeated by the planters. The king, and all the 
royal family but one, were against it. These de- 
bates are instructive, as they show on what grounds 
the trade was assailed and defended. Everjiihing 
generous, wise, and sprightly is sure to come to the 
attack. On the other part are found cold prudence, 
barefaced selfishness and silent votes. But the na- 
tion was aroused to enthusiasm. Every horrid 
fact became known. In 1791, three hundred thou- 
sand persons in Britain pledged themselves to ab- 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 141 

stain from all articles of island produce. The plant- 
ers were obliged to give way; and in 1807, on 
the 25th March, the bill passed, and the slave-trade 
was abolished. 

The assailants of slavery had early agreed to 
limit their political action on this subject to the 
abolition of the trade, but Granville Sharpe, as a 
matter of conscience, whilst he acted as chairman 
of the London Committee, felt constrained to record 
his protest against the limitation, declaring that 
slavery was as much a crime against the Divine 
law, as the slave-trade. The trade, under false 
flags, went on as before. In 1821, according to 
official documents presented to the American gov- 
ernment by the Colonization Society, 200,000 slaves 
were deported from Africa. Nearly 30,000 were 
landed in the port of Havana alone. In consequence 
of the dangers of the trade growing out of the act 
of abolition, ships were built sharp for swiftness, 
and with a frightful disregard of the comfort of the 
victims they were destined to transport. They car- 
ried five, six, even seven hundred stowed in a ship 
built so narrow as to be unsafe, being made just 
broad enough on the beam to keep the sea. In at- 
tempting to make its escape from the pursuit of a 
man-of-war, one ship flung five hundred slaves alive 
into the sea. These facts went into Parliament. 
In the islands was an ominous state of cruel and 



142 ADDRESS. 

licentious society ; every house had a dungeon at- 
tached to it ; every slave was worked by the whip. 
There is no end to the tragic anecdotes in the mu- 
nicipal records of the colonies. The boy was set to 
strip and to flog his own mother to blood, for a 
small offence. Looking in the face of his master 
by the negro was held to be violence by the island 
courts. He was worked sixteen hours, and his ra- 
tion by law, in some islands, was a pint of flour 
and one salt herring a day. He suffered insult, 
stripes, mutilation, at the humor of the master: 
iron collars were riveted on their necks with iron 
prongs ten inches long ; capsicum pepper was 
rubbed in the eyes of the females ; and they were 
done to death with the most shocking levity between 
the master and manager, without fine or inquiry. 
And when, at last, some Quakers, Moravians, and 
Wesleyan and Baj)tist missionaries, following in 
the steps of Carey and Ward in the East Indies, 
had been moved to come and cheer the poor victim 
with the hope of some reparation, in a future world, 
of the wrongs he suffered in this, these missionaries 
were persecuted by the planters, their lives threat- 
ened, their chapels burned, and the negroes 
furiously forbidden to go near them. These out- 
rages rekindled the flame of, British indignation. 
Petitions poured into Parliament : a million per- 
sons signed their names to these ; and in 1833, on 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 143 

the 14th May, Lord Stanley, minister of the col- 
onies, introduced into the House of Commons his 
bill for the Emancij^ation. 

The scheme of the minister, with such modifica- 
tion as it received in the legislatm-e, proposed grad- 
ual emancipation; that, on 1st August, 1834, all 
persons now slaves should be entitled to be regis- 
tered as apprenticed laborers, and to acquire 
thereby aU the rights and privileges of freemen, 
subject to the restriction of laboring under certain 
conditions. These conditions were, that the pras- 
dials should owe three fourths of the profits of their 
labor to their masters for six years, and the non- 
prjeclials for four years. The other fourth of the 
apprentice's time was to be his own, which he 
might sell to his master, or to other persons ; and 
at the end of the term of years fixed, he should be 
free. 

With these provisions and conditions, the bill 
proceeds, in the twelfth section, in the following- 
terms : " Be it enacted, that all and every person 
who, on the 1st August, 1834, shall be holden in 
slavery within any such British colony as aforesaid, 
shall upon and from and after the said 1st August, 
become and be to all intents and purposes free, and 
discharged of and from all manner of slavery, and 
shall be absolutely and forever manumitted ; and 
that the children thereafter born to any such per- 



144 ADDRESS. 

sons, and the offspring of such children, shall, in 
like manner, be free, from their birth ; and that 
from and after the 1st August, 1834, slavery shall 
be and is hereby utterly and forever abolished and 
declared unlawful throughout the British colonies, 
plantations, and possessions abroad." 

The ministers, having estimated the slave pro- 
ducts of the colonies in annual exports of sugar, rum 
and coffee, at .£1,500,000 per annum, estimated 
the total value of the slave-property at 30,000,000 
pounds sterling, and proposed to give the jjlanters, 
as a compensation for so much of the slaves' time 
as the act took from them, 20,000,000 jDounds ster- 
ling, to be divided into nineteen shares for the nine- 
teen colonies, and to be distributed to the owners 
of slaves by commissioners, whose appointment and 
duties were regulated by the Act. After much de- 
bate, the bill passed by large majorities. The ap- 
prenticeship system is understood to have proceeded 
from Lord Brougham, and was by him urged on 
his colleagues, who, it is said, were inclined to the 
policy of immediate emancipation. 

The colonial legislatures received the act of Par- 
liament with various degrees of displeasure, and, 
of course, every provision of the bill was criticised 
with severity. The new relation between the mas- 
ter and the apprentice, it was feared, would be mis- 
chievous ; for the bill required the appointment of 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 145 

magistrates who should hear every complaint of 
the apprentice and see that justice was done him. 
It was feared that the interest of the master and 
servant would now produce perpetual discord be- 
tween theui. In the island of Antigua, containing 
37,000 people, 30,000 being negroes, these objec- 
tions had such weight, that the legislature rejected 
the apprenticeship system, and adopted absolute 
emancipation. In the other islands the system of 
the ministry was accepted. 

The reception of it by the negro population was 
equal in nobleness to the deed. The negroes were 
called together by the missionaries and by the plant- 
ers, and the news explained to them. On the 
night of the 31st July, they met everywhere at their 
churches and chapels, and at midnight, when the 
clock struck twelve, on their knees, the silent, weep- 
ing assembly became men ; they rose and embraced 
each other ; they cried, they sung, they prayed, 
they were wild with joy, but there was no riot, no 
feasting. 1 have never read anything in history 
more touching than the moderation of the negroes. 
Some American captains left the shore and put to 
sea, anticipating insurrection and general murder. 
With far different thoughts, the negroes spent the 
hour in their huts and chapels. I will not repeat 
to you the well-known paragraph, in which Messrs. 
Thome and Kimball, the commissioners sent out in 

VOL. XI. 10 



146 ADDRESS. 

the year 1837 by the American Anti-slavery Society, 
describe the occurrences of that night in the island 
of Antigua. It has been quoted in eveiy news- 
paper, and Dr. Channing has given it additional 
fame. But I must be indulged in quoting a few 
sentences from the pages that follow it, narrating 
the behavior of the emancipated people on the 
next day.^ 

" The first of August came on Friday, and a 
release was proclaimed from all work until the next 
Monday. The day was chiefly spent by the great 
mass of the negroes in the churches and chapels. 
The clergy and missionaries throughout the island 
■were actively engaged, seizing the opportunity to 
enlighten the j)eople on all the duties and responsi- 
bilities of their new relation, and urging them to 
the attainment of that higher liberty with which 
Christ maketh his children free. In every quarter, 
we were assured, the day was like a Sabbath. 
Work had ceased. The hum of business was still : 
tranquillity pervaded the towns and country. The 
planters informed us, that they went to the chapels 
where their own people were assembled, greeted 
them, shook hands with them, and exchanged the 

^ Emancipation in the West Indies : A Six Months' Tour 
in Antigua, Barhadoes, and Jamaica, in the year 1837. By 
J. A. Thome and J. H. KimbaU. New York, 1838. Pp. 
146, 147. 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 147 

most hearty good wishes. At Grace Hill, there 
were at least a thousand persons around the Mora- 
vian Chapel who could not get in. For once the 
house of God suffered violence, and the violent 
took it by force. At Grace Bay, the people, all 
dressed in white, formed a procession, and walked 
arm in arm into the chapel. We were told that 
the dress of the negroes on that occasion was un- 
commonly simple and modest. There was not the 
least disposition to gayety. Throughout the island, 
there was not a single dance known of, either day 
or night, nor so much as a fiddle played." 

On the next Monday morning, with very few ex- 
ceptions, every negro on every plantation was in 
the field at his work. In some places, they waited 
to see their master, to know what bargain he would 
make ; but, for the most part, throughout the isl- 
ands, nothing painful occurred. In June, 1835, 
the ministers. Lord Aberdeen and Sir George Grey, 
declared to the Parliament that the system worked 
well ; that now for ten months, from 1st August, 
1834, no injury or violence had been offered to any 
white, and only one black had been hurt in 800,000 
negroes : and, contrary to many sinister predictions, 
that the new crop of island produce would not fall 
short of that of the last year. 

But the habit of oppression was not destroyed 
by a law and a day of jubilee. It soon appeared 



148 ADDRESS. 

in all the islands that the planters were disposed to 
use their old privileges, and overwork the appren- 
tices ; to take from them, under various pretences, 
their fourth part of their time ; and to exert the 
same licentious despotism as before. The negroes 
complained to the magistrates and to the gov- 
ernor. In the island of Jamaica, this ill blood con- 
tinually grew worse. The governors, Lord Bel- 
more, the Earl of Sligo, and afterwards Sir Lionel 
Smith (a governor of their own class, who had been 
sent out to gratify the j)lanters,) threw themselves 
on the side of the oppressed, and were at constant 
quarrel with the angry and bilious island legisla- 
ture. Nothing can exceed the ill humor and sulk- 
iness of the addresses of this assembly. 

I may here express a general remark, which the 
history of slavery seems to Justify, that it is not 
founded solely on the avarice of the planter. We 
sometimes say, the planter does not want slaves, 
he only wants the immunities and the luxuries 
which the slaves yield him ; give him money, give 
him a machine that will yield him as much money 
as the slaves, and he will thankfully let them go. 
He has no love of slavery, he wants luxury, and he 
will pay even this price of crime and danger for it. 
But I think experience does not warrant this favor- 
able distinction, but shows the existence, beside the 
covetousness, of a bitterer element, the love yf 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 149 

power, the voluptuousness of holding a human be- 
ing in his absolute control. We sometimes observe 
that spoiled children contract a habit of annoying 
quite wantonly those who have charge of them, and 
seem to measure their own sense of well-being, not 
by what they do, but by the degree of reaction they 
can cause. It is vain to get rid of them by not 
minding them : if purring and humming is not no- 
ticed, they squeal and screech ; then if you chide 
and console them, they find the experiment suc- 
ceeds, and they begin again. The child will sit in 
your arms contented, provided you do nothing. If 
you take a book and read, he commences hostile 
operations. The planter is the spoiled child of his 
unnatural habits, and has contracted in his indolent 
and luxurious climate the need of excitement by 
irritating and tormenting his slave. 

Sir Lionel Smith defended the poor negro girls, 
prey to the licentiousness of the planters ; they 
shall not be whipped with tamarind rods if they do 
not comply with tneir master's will ; he defended 
the negro women ; they should not be made to dig 
the cane-holes, (which is the very hardest of the 
field-work ;) he defended the Baptist preachers and 
the stipendiary magistrates, who are the negroes' 
friends, from the power of the planter. The power 
of the planters however, to oppress, was greater 
than the power of the apprentice and of his guard- 



150 ADDRESS. 

ians to withstand. Lord Brougliam and Mr. Bux- 
ton declared that the planter had not fulfilled his 
part in the contract, whilst the apprentices had ful- 
filled theirs ; and demanded that the emanciijation 
should be hastened, and the ajoprenticeship abol- 
ished. Parliament was compelled to pass additional 
laws for the defence and security of the negro, and 
in ill humor at these acts, the great island of Ja- 
maica, with a population of half a million, and 
300,000 negroes, early in 1838, resolved to throw up 
the two remaining years of apprenticeship, and to 
emancipate absolutely on the 1st August, 1838. In 
British Guiana, in Dominica, the same resolution 
had been earlier taken with more good will ; and 
the other islands fell into the measure ; so that on 
the 1st August, 1838, the shackles dropped from 
every British slave. The accounts which we have 
from all parties, both from the planters (and those 
too who were originally most opposed to the meas- 
ure), and from the new freemen, are of the most 
satisfactory kind. The manner in which the new 
festival was celebrated, brings tears to the eyes. 
The First of August, 1838, was observed in Ja- 
maica as a day of thanksgiving and prayer. Sir 
Lionel Smith, the governor, writes to the British 
Ministry, " It is impossible for me to do justice to 
the good order, decorum and gratitude which the 
whole laboring population manifested on that happy 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 151 

occasion. Though joy beamed on every counte- 
nance, it was throughout tempered with solemn 
thankfidness to God, and the churches and chapels 
were everywhere filled with these happy people in 
humble offering of praise." 

The Queen, in her speech to the Lords and Com- 
mons, praised the conduct of the emancipated jjop- 
ulation : and in 1840 Sir Charles Metcalfe, the 
new governor of Jamaica, in his address to the 
Assembly expressed himself to that late exasper- 
ated body in these terms : " All those who are ac- 
quainted with the state of the island know that our 
eniancij)ated population are as free, as independent 
in their conduct, as well-conditioned, as much in the 
enjoyment of abundance, and as strongly sensible 
of the blessings of liberty, as any that we know of 
in any country. All disqualifications and distinc- 
tions of color have ceased ; men of all colors have 
equal rights in law, and an equal footing in society, 
and every man's position is settled by the same cir- 
cumstances which regulate that point in other free 
countries, where no difference of color exists. It 
may be asserted, without fear of denial, that the 
former slaves of Jamaica are now as secure in all 
social rights, as freeborn Britons." He further 
describes the erection of numerous churches, chap- 
els and schools which the new population required, 
and adds that more are still demanded. The legis- 



152 ADDRESS. 

lature, in their reply, echo the governor's statement, 
and say, " The peaceful demeanor of the emanci- 
pated population redounds to their own credit, and 
affords a proof of their continued comfort and pros- 
perity." 

I said, this event is signal in the history of civil- 
ization. There are many styles of civilization, and 
not one only. Ours is fuU of barbarities. There 
are many faculties in man, each of which takes its 
turn of activity, and that faculty which is para- 
mount in any period and exerts itself through the 
strongest nation, determines the civility of that 
age : and each age thinks its own the perfection of 
reason. Our culture is very cheap and intelligible. 
Unroof any house, and you shall find it. The well- 
being consists in having a sufficiency of coffee and 
toast, with a daily newspaper ; a well glazed par- 
lor, with marbles, mirrors and centre-table ; and 
the excitement of a few parties and a few rides in 
a year. Such as one house, such are all. The 
owner of a New York manor imitates the mansion 
and equipage of the London nobleman ; the Bos- 
ton merchant rivals his brother of New York; 
and the villages copy Boston. There have been 
nations elevated by great sentiments. Such was 
the civility of Sparta and the Dorian race, whilst 
it was defective in some of the chief elements of 
ours. That of Athens, again, lay in an intellect 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 153 

dedicated to beauty. That of Asia Minor in po- 
etry, music and arts ; that of Palestine in piety ; 
that of Rome in military arts and virtues, exalted 
by a prodigious magnanimity ; that of China and 
Japan in the last exaggeration of decorum and 
etiquette. Our civility, England determines the 
style of, inasmuch as England is the strongest of 
the family of existing nations, and as we are the 
expansion of that people. It is that of a trading 
nation ; it is a shopkeeping civility. The English 
lord is a retired shopkeeper, and has the prejudices 
and timidities of that profession. And we are 
shopkeepers, and have acquired the vices and vir- 
tues that belong to trade. We peddle, we truck, 
we sail, we row, we ride in cars, we creep in teams, 
we go in canals, — to market, and for the sale of 
goods. The national aim and employment streams 
into our ways of thinking, our laws, our habits and 
our manners. The customer is the immediate jewel 
of our souls. Him we flatter, him we feast, com- 
pliment, vote for, and will not contradict. It was, 
or it seemed the dictate of trade, to keep the negro 
down. We had found a race who were less war- 
like, and less energetic shopkeepers than we ; who 
had very little skill in trade. We found it very 
convenient to keep them at work, since, by the aid 
of a little whipping, we could get their work for 
nothing but their board and the cost of whips. 



154 ADDRESS. 

What if it cost a few unpleasant scenes on the 
coast of Africa ? That was a great way off ; and 
the scenes couhl be endured by some sturdy, un- 
scrupulous fellows, who coidd go, for high wages, 
and fering us the men, and need not trouble our 
ears with the disagreeable particulars. If any 
mention was made of homicide, madness, adultery, 
and intolerable tortures, we would let the church- 
bells ring louder, the church- organ swell its peal 
and drown the hideous sound. The sugar they 
raised was excellent: nobody tasted blood in it. 
The coffee was fragrant ; the tobacco was incense ; 
the brandy made nations happy ; the cotton clothed 
the world. What! all raised by these men, and 
no wajjes ? Excellent ! What a convenience ! 
They seemed created by Providence to bear the 
heat and the whipping, and make these fine ar- 
ticles. 

But unhappily, most unhappily, gentlemen, man 
is born with intellect, as well as with a love of 
sugar ; and with a sense of justice, as well as a 
taste for strong drink. These ripened, as well as 
those. You could not educate him, you could not 
get any poetry, any wisdom, any beauty in woman, 
any strong and commanding character in man, but 
these absurdities wovdd still come flashing out, — 
these absurdities of a demand for justice, a generos- 
ity for the weak and oppressed. Unhappily too for 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 155 

the planter, the laws of nature are in harmony with 
each other : that which the head and the heart de- 
mand, is found to be, in the long run, for what the 
grossest calculator calls his advantage. The moral 
sense is always supported by the permanent interest 
of the parties. Else, I know not how, in our world, 
any good would ever get done. It was shown to 
the planters that they, as well as the negroes, were 
slaves ; that though they paid no wages, they got 
very poor work ; that their estates were ruining 
them, under the finest climate ; and that they 
needed the severest monopoly laws at home to keep 
them from bankruptcy. The oppression of the 
slave recoiled on them. They were fidl of vices ; 
their children were limips of pride, sloth, sensuality 
and rottenness. The position of woman was nearly 
as bad as it coidd be ; and, like other robbers, they 
coidd not sleep in security. Many planters have 
said, since the emancipation, that, before that day, 
they were the greatest slaves on the estates. Slav- 
ery is no scholar, no improver ; it does not love the 
whistle of the railroad ; it does not love the news- 
paper, the mailbag, a college, a book or a preacher 
who has the absurd whim of saying what he thinks ; 
it does not increase the white population ; it does 
not improve the soil ; everything goes to decay. 
For these reasons the islands proved bad customers 
to England. It was very easy for manufacturers 



156 ADDRESS. 

less shrewd than those of Birmingham and Man- 
chester to see that if the state of things in the isl- 
ands was altered, if the slaves had wages, the slaves 
would be clothed, would build houses, would fill 
them with tools, with pottery, with crockery, with 
hardware ; and negro women love fine clothes as 
well as white women. In every naked negro of 
those thousands, they saw a future customer. Mean- 
time, they saw further that the slave-trade, by keep- 
ing in barbarism the whole coast of eastern Africa, 
dejjrives them of countries and nations of custom- 
ers, if once freedom and civility and European 
manners could get a foothold there. But the trade 
could not be abolished whilst this hungry West 
Indian market, with an appetite like the grave, 
cried, " More, more, bring me a hundred a day ; " 
they could not expect any mitigation in the mad- 
ness of the poor African war-chiefs. These consid- 
erations opened the eyes of the dullest in Britain. 
More than this, the West Indian estate was owned 
or mortgaged in England, and the owner and the 
mortgagee had very plain intimations that the feel- 
ing of English liberty was gaining every hour new 
mass and velocity, and the hostility to such as re- 
sisted it would be fatal. The House of Commons 
would destroy the protection of island produce, and 
interfere in English politics in the island legisla- 
tion : so they hastened to make the best of their 
position, and accepted the bill. 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 157 

These considerations, I doubt not, had their 
weight ; the interest of trade, the interest of the 
revenue, and, moreover, the good fame of the ac- 
tion. It was inevitable that men should feel these 
motives. But they do not appear to have had an 
excessive or unreasonable weight. On reviewing 
this history, I think the whole transaction reflects 
infinite honor on the people and parliament of Eng- 
land. It was a stately spectacle, to see the cause 
of human rights argued with so much patience and 
generosity and with such a mass of evidence be- 
fore that powerful people. It is a creditable inci- 
dent in the history that when, in 1789, the first 
privy-council report of evidence on the trade (a 
bulky folio embodying all the facts which the Lon- 
don Committee had been engaged for years in col- 
lecting, and all the examinations before the coun- 
cil) was presented to the House of Commons, a late 
day being named for the discussion, in order to give 
members time, — Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Pitt, the 
prime minister, and other gentlemen, took advan- 
tage of the postponement to retire into the country 
to read the report. For months and years the bill 
was debated, with some consciousness of the extent 
of its relations, by the first citizens of England, 
the foremost men of the earth ; every argument was 
weighed, every particle of evidence was sifted and 
laid in the scale ; and, at last, the right triumphed, 



158 ADDRESS. 

the poor man was vinclieated, and the oppressor was 
flung out. I know that England has the advantage 
of trying the question at a wide distance from the 
spot where the nuisance exists : the planters are not, 
excepting in rare examples, members of the legisla 
ture. The extent of the empire, and the magnitude 
and number of other questions crowding into court, 
keep this one in balance, and prevent it from ob- 
taining that ascendency, and being urged with that 
intemiDerance which a question of property tends to 
acquire. There are causes in the composition of 
the British legislature, and the relation of its lead- 
ers to the country and to Europe, which exclude 
much that is pitiful and injurious in other legisla- 
tive assemblies. From these reasons, the question 
was discussed with a rare independence and mag- 
nanimity. It was not narrowed down to a paltry 
electioneering trap ; and, I must say, a delight in 
justice, an honest tenderness for the poor negro, 
for man sufPering these wrongs, combined with the 
national pride, which refused to give the support of 
English soil or the protection of the English flag 
to these disgusting violations of nature. 

Forgive me, fellow-citizens, if I own to you, that 
in the last few days that my attention has been oc- 
cupied with this history, I have not been able to 
read a page of it without the most painful com- 
parisons. Whilst I have read of England, I have 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 159 

thoiiglit o£ New England. Whilst I have medi- 
tated in my solitary walks on the magnanimity of 
the English Bench and Senate, reaching out the 
benefit of the law to the most helpless citizen in her 
world-wide realm, I have found myself oppressed 
by other thoughts. As I have walked in the pas- 
tures and along the edge of woods, I could not keep 
my imagination on those agreeable figures, for other 
images that intruded on me. I could not see the 
great vision of the patriots and senators who have 
adopted the slave's cause : — they turned their 
backs on me. No : I see other pictures, — of mean 
men : I see very poor, very ill-clothed, very igno- 
rant men, not surrounded by happy friends, — to 
be plain, — poor black men of obscure employment 
as mariners, cooks, or stewards, in ships, yet citi- 
zens of this our Commonwealth of Massachusetts, — 
freeborn as we, — whom the slave-laws of the States 
of South Carolina, Georgia and Louisiana have ar- 
rested in the vessels in which they visited those 
ports, and shut up in jails so long as the vessel re- 
mained in port, with the stringent addition, that if 
the shipmaster fails to pay the costs of this official 
arrest and the board in jail, these citizens are to be 
sold for slaves, to j)ay that expense. This man, 
these men, I see, and no law to save them. Fellow- 
citizens, this crime will not be hushed up any longer. 
I have learned that a citizen of Nantucket, walking 



160 ADDRESS. 

in New Orleans, found a freeborn citizen of Nan- 
tucket, a man, too, of great personal worth, and, as 
it happened, very dear to him, as ha\nng saved his 
own life, working chained in the streets of that 
city, kidnapped by such a process as this. In the 
sleep of the laws, the private interference of two 
excellent citizens of Boston has, I have ascertained, 
rescued several natives of this State from these 
Southern prisons. Gentlemen, I thought the deck 
of a Massachusetts ship was as much the territory 
of Massachusetts as the floor on which we stand. 
It should be as sacred as the temple of God. The 
poorest fishing smack that floats under the shadow 
of an iceberg in the Northern seas, or hunts the 
whale in the Southern ocean, should be encompassed 
by her laws with comfort and protection, as much 
as within the arms of Cape Ann and Cape Cod. 
And this kidnapping is suffered within our own 
land and federation, whilst the fourth article of the 
Constitution of the United States ordains in terms, 
that, " The citizens of each State shall be entitled 
to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the 
several States. " If such a damnable outrage can 
be committed on the person of a citizen with impu- 
nity, let the Governor break the broad seal of the 
State ; he bears the sword in vain. The Governor 
of Massachusetts is a trifler; the State-house in 
Boston is a play-house ; the General Court is a dis- 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 161 

honored body, if they make laws which they can- 
not execute. The great-hearted Puritans have left 
no posterity. The rich men may walk in State 
Street, but they walk without honor ; and the farm- 
ers may brag their democracy in the country, but 
they are disgraced men. If the State has no power 
to defend its own people in its own shipping, be- 
cause it has delegated that power to the Federal 
Government, has it no representation in the Federal 
Government? Are those men dumb? I am no 
law}''er, and cannot indicate the forms applicable to 
the case, but here is something which transcends all 
forms. Let the senators and representatives of the 
State, containing a population of a million freemen, 
go in a body before the Congress and say that they 
have a demand to make on them, so imperative 
that all functions of government must stop until it 
is satisfied. If ordinary legislation cannot reach it, 
then extraordinary must be applied. The Congress 
should instruct the President to send to those ports 
of Charleston, Savannah and New Orleans such 
orders and such force as should release, forthwith, 
all such citizens of Massachusetts as were holden in 
prison without the allegation of any crime, and 
should set on foot the strictest inquisition to dis- 
cover where such persons, brought into slavery by 
these local laws at any time heretofore, may now be. 
That first ; — and then, let order be taken to indem- 

VOL. XI. 11 



162 ADDRESS. 

nify all such as have been incarcerated. As for 
dangers to the Union, from such demands ! — the 
Union is already at an end when the first citizen of 
Massachusetts is thus outraged. Is it an union and 
covenant in which the State of Massachusetts agrees 
to be imprisoned, and the State of Carolina to im- 
prison ? Gentlemen, I am loath to say harsh things, 
and perhaps I know too little of politics for the 
smallest weight to attach to any censure of mine, — 
but I am at a loss how to characterize the tameness 
and silence of the two senators and the ten repre- 
sentatives of the State at Washingion. To what 
purpose have we clothed each of those representa- 
tives with the power of seventy thousand persons, 
and each senator with near half a million, if they 
are to sit dumb at their desks and see their constit- 
uents captured and sold ; — perhaps to gentlemen 
sitting by them in the hall ? There is a scandalous 
rumor that has been swelling louder of late years, 
— perhaps it is wholly false, — that members are 
bullied into silence by Southern gentlemen. It is 
so easy to omit to speak, or even to be absent when 
delicate things are to be handled. I may as well 
say what all men feel, that whilst our very amiable 
and very innocent representatives and senators at 
Washington are accomplished lawyers and mer- 
chants, and very eloquent at dinners and at cau- 
cuses, there is a disastrous want of men from New 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 163 

England. I would gladly make exceptions, and 
you will not suffer me to forget one eloquent old 
man, in whose veins the blood of Massachusetts 
rolls, and who singly has defended the freedom of 
speech, and the rights of the free, against the usur- 
pation of the slave-holder. But the reader of Con- 
gressional debates, in New England, is perplexed 
to see with what admirable sweetness and patience 
the majority of the free States are schooled and 
ridden by the mino^nty of slave-holders. What if 
we should send thither representatives who were a 
particle less amiable and less innocent ? I entreat 
you, sirs, let not this stain attach, let not this mis- 
ery accumulate any longer. If the managers of 
our political parties are too prudent and too cold ; 
— if, most unhappily, the ambitious class of young 
men and political men have found out that these 
neglected victims are poor and without weight ; that 
they have no graceful hospitalities to offer ; no val- 
uable business to throw into any man's hands, no 
strong vote to cast at the elections ; and therefore 
may with impunity be left in their chains or to the 
chance of chains, — then let the citizens in their 
primary capacity take up their cause on this very 
ground, and say to the government of the State, 
and of the Union, that government exists to de- 
fend the weak and the poor and the injured party ; 
the rich and the strong: can better take care of 



164 ADDRESS. 

themselves. And as an omen and assurance of 
success, I point you to the bright example which 
England set you, ou this day, ten years ago. 

There are other comparisons and other impera- 
tive duties which come sadly to mind, — but I do 
not wish to darken the hours of this day by crim- 
ination ; I turn gladly to the rightful theme, to the 
bright aspects of the occasion. 

This event was a moral revolution. The history 
of it is before you. Here was no prodigy, no fabu- 
lous hero, no Trojan horse, no bloody war, but all 
was achieved by plain means of plain men, work- 
ing not under a leader, but under a sentiment. 
Other revolutions have been the insurrection of the 
oppressed ; this was the repentance of the tyrant. 
It was the masters revolting from their mastery. 
The slave-holder said, I will not hold slaves. The 
end was noble and the means were pure. Hence 
the elevation and pathos of this chapter of liistory. 
The lives of the advocates are j)ages of greatness, 
and the connection of the eminent senators with this 
question constitutes the immortalizing moments of 
those men's lives. The bare enunciation of the 
theses at which the lawyers and legislators arrived, 
gives a glow to the heart of the reader. Lord 
Chancellor Northington is the author of the famous 
sentence, " As soon as any man puts his foot on 
English ground, he becomes free." " I was a slave," 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 165 

said the counsel of Somerset, speaking for his client, 
"for I was in America: I am now in a country 
where the common rights of manldnd are known 
and regarded." Granville Sharpe filled the ear of 
the judges with the sound principles that had from 
time to time been affirmed by the legal authorities : 
" Derived power cannot be superior to the power 
from which it is derived : " " The reasonableness 
of the law is the soul of the law : " " It is better to 
suffer every evil, than to consent to any." Out it 
woidd come, the God's truth, out it came, like a 
bolt from a cloud, for aU the mumbling of the law- 
yers. One feels very sensibly in all this history 
that a great heart and soul are behind there, supe- 
rior to any man, and making use of each, in turn, 
and infinitely attractive to every person according 
to the degree of reason in his own mind, so that 
this cause has had the power to draw to it every 
particle of talent and of worth in England, from 
the beginning. All the great geniuses of the Brit- 
ish senate. Fox, Pitt, Burke, Grenville, Sheridan, 
Grey, Canning, ranged themselves on its side ; the 
poet Cowper wrote for it : Franklin, Jefferson, 
Washington, in this country, all recorded their 
votes. All men remember the subtlety and the 
fire of indignation which the "Edinburgh Review" 
contributed to the cause ; and every liberal mind, 
poet, preacher, moralist, statesman, has had the for- 



166 ADDRESS. 

tune to appear somewhere for this cause. On the 
other part, appeared the reign of pounds and shil- 
lings, and all manner of rage and stupidity ; a re- 
sistance which drew from Mr. Huddlestone in Par- 
liament the observation, " That a curse attended 
this trade even in the mode of defending it. By a 
certain fatality, none but the vilest arguments were 
brought forward, which corrupted the very persons 
who used them. Every one of these was built on 
the narrow ground of interest, of pecuniary profit, 
of sordid gain, in opposition to every motive that 
had reference to humanity, justice, and religion, 
or to that great principle which comjjrehended them 
all." This moral force jserpetually reinforces and 
dignifies the friends of this cause. It gave that 
tenacity to their point which has insured ultimate 
triumph ; and it gave that superiority in reason, in 
imagery, in eloquence, which makes in all countries 
anti-slavery meetings so attractive to the people, 
and has made it a proverb in Massachusetts, that 
" eloquence is dog-clieap at the anti-slavery chapel." 
I will say further that we are indebted mainly to 
this movement and to the continuers of it, for the 
popular discussion of every point of practical eth- 
ics, and a reference of every question to the abso- 
lute standard. It is notorious that the political, 
religious and social schemes, with which the minds 
of men are now most occupied, have been matured, 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 167 

or at least broached, in the free and daring discus- 
sions of these assemblies. Men have become aware, 
through the emancipation and kindred events, of 
the presence of powers which, in their days of dark- 
ness, they had overlooked. Virtuous men will not 
again rely on political agents. They have found 
out the deleterious effect of political association. 
Up to this day we have allowed to statesmen a par- 
amount social standing, and we bow low to them as 
to the great. We cannot extend this deference 
to them any longer. The secret cannot be kept, 
that the seats of power are fiUed by underlings, ig- 
norant, timid and selfish to a degree to destroy aU 
claim, excepting that on compassion, to the society 
of the just and generous. What happened notori- 
ously to an American ambassador in England, that 
he found himself compelled to palter and to dis- 
guise the fact that he was a slave-breeder, happens 
to men of state. Their vocation is a presumption 
against them among well-meaning people. The 
superstition respecting power and office is going to 
the groimd. The stream of human affairs flows its 
own way, and is very little affected by the activity 
of legislators. What great masses of men wish 
done, will be done ; and they do not wish it for a 
freak, but because it is their state and natural end. 
There are now other energies than force, other 
than political, which no man in future can allow 



168 ADDRESS. 

himself to disregard. There is direct conversation 
and influence. A man is to make himself felt by 
his proper force. The tendency of things runs 
steadily to this point, namely, to put every man on 
his merits, and to give him so much power as he 
naturally exerts, — no more, no less. Of course, 
the timid and base persons, all who are conscious 
of no worth in themselves, and who owe all their 
place to the opportunities which the old order of 
things allowed them, to deceive and defraud men, 
shudder at the change, and would fain silence every 
honest voice, and lock up every house where liberty 
and innovation can be pleaded for. They would 
raise mobs, for fear is very cruel. But the strong 
and healthy yeomen and husbands of the land, the 
self-sustaining class of inventive and industrious 
men, fear no competition or superiority. Come 
what will, their faculty cannot be spared. 

The First of August marks the entrance of a 
new element into modern politics, namely, the civ- 
ilization of the negi'o. A man is added to the hu- 
man family. Not the least affecting part of this 
history of abolition is the annihilation of the old 
indecent nonsense about the nature of the negro. 
In the case of the ship Zong, in 1781, whose mas- 
ter had thrown one hundred and thirty-two slaves 
alive into the sea, to cheat the underwriters, the 
first jury gave a verdict in favor of the master and 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 169 

owners: they had a right to do what they had 
done. Lord Mansfield is reported to have said on 
the bench, " The matter left to the jury is, — Was 
it from necessity ? For they had no doubt, — 
though it shocks one very much, — that the ease of 
slaves was the same as if horses had been thrown 
overboard. It is a very shocking case." But a 
more enlightened and humane opinion began to 
prevail. Mr. Clarkson, early in his career, made a 
collection of African productions and manufactures, 
as specimens of the arts and culture of the negro ; 
comprising cloths and loom, weapons, polished 
stones and woods, leather, glass, dyes, ornaments, 
soap, pipe-bowls and trinkets. These he showed 
to Mr. Pitt, who saw and handled them with ex- 
treme interest. " On sight of these," says Clark- 
son, " many sublime thoughts seemed to rush at 
once into his mind, some of which he expressed ; " 
and hence appeared to arise a project which was 
always dear to him, of the civilization of Africa, — 
a dream which forever elevates his fame. In 1791, 
Mr. Wilberforce announced to the House of Com- 
mons, " We have already gained one victory : we 
have obtained for these poor creatures the recogni- 
tion of their human nature, which for a time was 
most shamefully denied them." It was the sar- 
casm of Montesquieu, " it would not do to suppose 
that negroes were men, lest it should turn out that 



170 ADDRESS. 

whites were not ; " for the white has, for ages, done 
what he could to keep the negro in that hoggish 
state. His laws have been furies. It now appears 
that the negro race is, more than any other, sus- 
ceptible of rapid civilization. The emancipation is 
observed, in the islands, to have wrought for the 
negro a benefit as sudden as when a thermometer 
is brought out of the shade into the sun. It has 
given him eyes and ears. If, before, he was taxed 
with such stupidity, or such defective vision, that 
he could not set a table square to the walls of an 
apartment, he is now the principal if not the only 
mechanic in the West Indies ; and is, besides, an 
architect, a physician, a lawyer, a magistrate, an 
editor, and a valued and increasing political power. 
The recent testimonies of Sturge, of Thome and 
Kimball, of Gurney, of Pliilippo, are very explicit 
on this point, the capacity and the success of the 
colored and the black population in employments 
of skill, of profit and of trust ; and best of aU is 
the testimony to their moderation. They receive 
hints and advances from the whites that they will 
be gladly received as subscribers to the Exchange, 
as members of this or that committee of trust. 
They hold back, and say to each other that " so- 
cial position is not to be gained b}^ pushing." 

I have said that this event interests us because 
it came mainly from the concession of the whites ; 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 171 

I add, that in part it is the earning of the blacks. 
They won the pity and respect which they have 
received, by their powers and native endowments. 
I think this a circumstance of the highest import. 
Their whole future is in it. Our planet, before the 
age of written history, had its races of savages, 
like the generations of sour paste, or the animal- 
cules that wriggle and bite in a drop of putrid 
water. Who cares for these or for their wars ? 
We do not wish a world of bugs or of birds ; nei- 
ther afterward of Scythians, Caraibs or Feejees. 
The grand style of nature, her great periods, is all 
we observe in them. Who cares for oppressing 
whites, or oppressed blacks, twenty centuries ago, 
more than for bad dreams ? Eaters and food are 
in the harmony of nature ; and there too is the 
germ forever protected, unfolding gigantic leaf 
after leaf, a newer flower, a richer fruit, in every 
period, yet its next product is never to be guessed. 
It will only save what is worth saving ; and it saves 
not by compassion, but by power. It appoints no 
police to guard the lion, but his teeth and claws ; 
no fort or city for the bird, but his wings ; no res- 
cue for flies and mites, but their spawning num- 
bers, wliich no ravages can overcome. It deals 
with men after the same manner. If they are rude 
and foolish, down they must go. When at last in 
a race, a new principle appears, an idea, — that 



172 ADDRESS. 

conserves it ; ideas only save races. If the black 
man is feeble and not important to the existing 
races, not on a parity with the best race, the black 
man must sepve, and be exterminated. But if the 
black man carries in his bosom an indispensable 
element of a new and coming civilization ; for the 
sake of that element, no wrong, nor strength nor 
circumstance can hurt him : he will survive and 
play his part. So now, the arrival in the world of 
such men as Toussaint, and the Haytian heroes, or 
of the leaders of their race in Barbadoes and Ja- 
maica, outweighs in good omen all the English and 
American humanity. The anti-slavery of the whole 
world is dust in the balance before this, — is a poor 
squeamishness and nervousness : the might and the 
rio^ht are here : here is the anti-slave : here is man : 
and if you have man, black or white is an insignifi- 
cance. The intellect, — that is miraculous ! Who 
has it, has the talisman : his skin and bones, though 
they were of the color of night, are transparent, 
and the everlasting stars shine through, with at- 
tractive beams. But a compassion for that which 
is not and cannot be useful or lovely, is degrading 
and futile. All the songs and newspapers and 
money-subscriptions and vituperation of such as do 
not think with us, will avail nothing against a fact. 
I say to you, you must save yourself, black or 
white, man or woman ; other help is none. I es- 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 173 

teem the occasion of this jubilee to be the proud 
discovery that the black race can contend with the 
white ; that, in the great anthem which we call his- 
tory, a piece of many parts and vast compass, after 
playing a long time a very low and subdued accom- 
paniment, they perceive the time arrived when they 
can strike in with effect and take a master's part 
in the music. The civility of the world has reached 
that pitch that their more moral genius is becoming 
indispensable, and the quality of this race is to be 
honored for itself. For this, they have been pre- 
served in sandy deserts, in rice-swamps, in kitch- 
ens and shoe-shops, so long : now let them emerge, 
clothed and in their own form. 

There remains the very elevated consideration 
which the subject opens, but which belongs to more 
abstract views than we are now taking, this namely, 
that the civility of no race can be perfect whilst 
another race is degTaded, It is a doctrine alike of 
the oldest and of the newest philosophy, that man 
is one, and that you cannot injure any member, 
without a symj)athetic injury to all the members. 
America is not civil, whilst Africa is barbarous. 

These considerations seem to leave no choice for 
the action of the intellect and the conscience of the 
country. There have been moments in this, as 
well as in every piece of moral history, when there 
seemed room for the infusions of a skeptical phi- 



174 ADDRESS. 

losophy ; when it seemed doubtful whether brute 
force would not triumph in the eternal struggle. I 
doubt not that sometimes, a despairing negro, when 
jumping over the ship's sides to escape from the 
whiter devils who surrounded him, has believed 
there was no vindication of right ; it is horrible to 
think of, but it seemed so. I doubt not that some- 
times the negro's friend, in the face of scornful 
and brutal hundreds of traders and drivers, has 
felt his heart sink. Especially, it seems to me, 
some degree of despondency is pardonable, when 
he observes the men of conscience and of intellect, 
his own natural allies and champions, — those 
whose attention should be nailed to the grand ob- 
jects of this cause, so hotly offended by whatever 
incidental petulances or infirmities of indiscreet 
defenders of the negro, as to permit themselves to 
be ranged with the enemies of the human race ; 
and names which should be the alarums of liberty 
and the watchwords of truth, are mixed up with all 
the rotten rabble of selfishness and tyi'anny. I 
assure myself that this coldness and blindness will 
pass away. A single noble wind of sentiment will 
scatter them forever. I am sure that the good and 
wise elders, the ardent and generous youth, will not 
permit what is incidental and exceptional to with- 
draw their devotion from the essential and perma- 
nent characters of the question. There have been 



WEST INDIA EMANCIPATION. 175 

moments, I said, when men might be forgiven who 
doubted. Those moments are past. Seen in masses, 
it cannot be disputed, there is progress in human 
society. There is a blessed necessity by which the 
interest of men is always driving them to the right ; 
and, again, making all crime mean and ugly. The 
genius of the Saxon race, friendly to liberty ; the 
enterprise, the very muscular vigor of this nation, 
are inconsistent with slavery. The Intellect, with 
blazing eye, looldng through history from the be- 
ginning onward, gazes on this blot and it disap- 
pears. The sentiment of Right, once very low and 
indistinct, but ever more articulate, because it is the 
voice of the universe, pronounces Freedom. The 
Power that built this fabric of things affirms it in 
the heart ; and in the history of the First of Au- 
gust, has made a sign to the ages, of his will. 



WAR. 



The archangel Hope 

Looks to the azure cope, 
Waits through dark ages for the morn, 
Defeated day by day, but unto Victory born. 



WAR.1 



It has been a favorite study of modern philos- 
ophy to indicate the steps of human progress, to 
watch the rising of a thought in one man's mind, 
the communication of it to a few, to a small minor- 
ity, its expansion and general reception, until it 
publishes itseK to the world by destroying the ex- 
isting laws and institutions, and the generation of 
new. Looked at in this general and historical way, 
many things wear a very different face from that 
they show near by, and one at a time, — and, par- 
ticularly, war. War, which to sane men at the 
present day begins to look like an epidemic insan- 
ity, breaking out here and there like the cholera or 
influenza, infecting men's brains instead of their 
bowels, — when seen in the remote past, in the in- 
fancy of society, appears a part of the connection 
of events, and, in its place, necessary. 

As far as history has preserved to us the slow 

1 Delivered as a lecture in Boston, in March, 1838. Re- 
printed from " .Sisthetic Papers," edited by Miss E. P. Pea- 
body, 1849. 



180 WAR 

luifolcling's of any savage tribe, it is not easy to see 
how war could be avoided by such wild, passionate, 
needy, ungoverned, strong-bodied creatures. For 
in the infancy of society, when a thin population 
and improvidence make the supply of food and of 
shelter insufficient and very precarious, and when v 
hunger, thirst, ague and frozen limbs universally 
take precedence of the wants of the mind and the 
heart, the necessities of the strong will certainly be 
satisfied at the cost of the weak, at whatever peril 
of future revenge. It is plain, too, that in the first 
dawnings of the religious sentiment, that blends 
itself with their passions and is oil to the fire. Not 
only every tribe has war-gods, religious festivals in 
victory, but religious wars. 

The student of history acquiesces the more read- 
ily in this copious bloodshed of the early annals, 
bloodshed in God's name too, when he learns that 
it is a temporary and preparatory state, and does 
actively forward the culture of man. War edu- 
cates the senses, calls into action the will, perfects 
the physical constitution, brings men into such swift 
and close collision in critical moments that man 
measures man. On its own scale, on the virtues it 
loves, it endures no counterfeit, but shakes the 
whole society until every atom falls into the place 
its specific gravity assigns it. It presently finds 
the value of good sense and of foresight, and Ulys- 



WAR. 181 

ses takes rank next to Achilles. The leaders, 
picked men of a courage and vigor tried and aug- 
mented in fifty battles, are emidous to distinguish ' 
themselves above each other by new merits, as 
clemency, hospitality, splendor of living. The peo- ' 
pie imitate the chiefs. The strong tribe, in which 
war has become an art, attack and conquer their 
neighbors, and teach them their arts and virtues. 
New territory, augmented numbers and extended 
interests call out new virtues and abilities, and the 
tribe makes long strides. And, finally, when much 
progress has been made, all its secrets of wisdom 
and art are disseminated by its invasions. Plu- ' 
tarch, in his essay " On the Fortune of Alexander," 
considers the invasion and conquest of the East by 
Alexander as one of the most bright and pleasing 
pages in history; and it must be owned he gives 
sound reason for his opinion. It had the effect 
of uniting into one great interest the divided com- 
monwealths of Greece, and infusing a new and 
more enlarged public spirit into the councils of 
their statesmen. It carried the arts and language 
and philosophy of the Greeks into the sluggish and 
barbarous nations of Persia, Assyria and India. It 
introduced the arts of husbandry among tribes of 
hunters and shepherds. It weaned the Scythians 
and Persians from some cruel and licentious prac- 
tices to a more civil way of life. It introduced 



182 WAR 

the sacredness of marriage among them. It built 
seventy cities, and sowed the Greek customs and 
humane laws over Asia, and united hostile nations 
under one code. It brought different families of 
the human race together, — to blows at first, but 
afterwards to truce, to trade and to intermarriage. 
It would be very easy to show analogous benefits 
that have resulted from military movements of 
later ages. 

Considerations of this kind lead us to a true 
view of the nature and office of war. We see it is 
the subject of all history ; that it has been the prin- 
cipal employment of the most conspicuous men ; 
that it is at this moment the delight of half the 
world, of almost all young and ignoi-ant persons ; 
that it is exhibited to us continually in the dumb 
show of brute nature, where war between tribes, 
and between individuals of the same tribe, perpet- 
ually rages. The microscope reveals miniature 
butchery in atomies and infinitely small biters that 
swim and fight in an illuminated drop of water ; 
and the little globe is but a too faithful miniature 
of the large. 

What does all this war, beginning from the low- 
est races and reaching vip to man, signify ? Is it 
not manifest that it covers a great and beneficent 
principle, which nature had deeply at heart ? 
What is that principle ? — It is self-help. Nature 



WAR. 183 

implants witli life the instinct of self -Help, perpet- 
ual struggle to be, to resist opposition, to attain to 
freedom, to attain to a mastery and the security 
of a permanent, self -defended being ; and to each 
creature these objects are made so dear that it 
risks its life continually in the struggle for these 
ends. 

But whilst this principle, necessarily, is inwrought 
into the fabric of every creature, yet it is but one 
instinct ; and though a primary one, or we may say 
the very first, yet the appearance of the other 
instincts immediately modifies and controls this ; 
turns its energies into harmless, useful and high 
courses, showing thereby what was its ultimate 
design ; and, finally, takes out its fangs. The in- 
stinct of self-help is very early unfolded in the 
coarse and merely brute form of war, only in the 
childhood and imbecility of the other instincts, and V 
remains in that form only until their development. 
It is the ignorant and childish part of mankind 
that is the fighting part. Idle and vacant minds 
want excitement, as all boys kill cats. Bull-baiting, 
cockpits and the boxer's ring are the enjoyment of 
the part of society whose animal nature alone has 
been developed. In some parts of this country, 
where the intellectual and moral faculties have as 
yet scarcely any culture, the absorbing topic of all 
conversation is whipping; who fought, and which 



184 WAR. 

whipped ? Of man, boy, or beast, the only trait 
that much interests tlie speakers is the pugnacity. / 
And why? Because the speaker has as yet no 
other image of manly activity and virtue, none of 
endurance, none of perseverance, none of charity, 
none of the attainment of truth. Put him into a 
circle of cultivated men, where the convei-sation 
broaches the great questions that besiege the hu- 
man reason, and he would be dumb and unhappy, 
as an Indian in church. 

To men of a sedate and mature spirit, in whom 
is any knowledge or mental activity, the detail of 
battle becomes insupportably tedious and revolting. 
It is like the tails of one of those monomaniacs 
whom we sometimes meet in society, who converse 
on horses ; and Fontenelle expressed a volume of 
meaning when he said, " I hate war, for it sj^oils 
conversation." 

Nothing is plainer than that the sympathy with 
war is a juvenile and temporary state. Not only the 
moral sentiment, but trade, learning and whatever 
makes intercourse, consjaire to put it down. Trade, 
as all men know, is the antagonist of war. Wher- 
ever there is no property, the people will put on the 
knapsack for bread ; but trade is instantly endan- 
gered and destroyed. And, moreover, trade brings 
men to look each other in the face, and gives the 
parties the knowledge that these enemies over sea 



WAR. 185 

or over the mountain are such men as we ; who 
laugh and grieve, who love and fear, as we do. 
And learning and art, and especially religion, 
weave ties that make war look like fratricide, as it \ 
is. And as all history is the picture of war, as we 
have said, so it is no less true that it is the record 
of the mitigation and decline of war. Early in the 
eleventh and twelfth centuries, the Italian cities 
had grown so populous and strong, that they forced 
the rural nobility to dismantle their castles, which 
were dens of cruelty, and come and reside in the 
towns. The Popes, to their eternal honor, declared 
religious jubilees, during which all hostilities were 
suspended throughout Christendom, and man had 
a breathing space. The increase of civility has 
abolished the use of poison and of torture, once sup- 
posed as necessary as navies now. And, finally, 
the art of war, what with gunpowder and tactics, 
has made, as all men know, battles less frequent 
and less murderous. 

By all these means, war has been steadily on the 
decline ; and we read with astonishment of the 
beastly fighting of the old times. Only in Eliz- 
abeth's time, out of the European waters, piracy 
was all but universal. The proverb was, — " No 
peace beyond the line ; " and the seaman shipped 
on the buccaneer's bargain, " No prey, no pay." 
The celebrated Cavendish, who was thought in his 



186 WAR. 

times a good Christian man, wrote thus to Lord 
Hunsdon, ou his return from a voyage round the 
workl : — " Sept. 1588. It hath pleased Ahnighty 
God to suffer me to circumpass the whole globe 
of the world, entering in at the Strait of Magel- 
lan, and returning by the Cape of Buena Esperan- 
9a; in which voyage, I have either discovered or 
brought certain intelligence of all the rich places of 
the world, which were ever discovered by any Chris- 
tian. I navigated along the coast of Chili, Peru, 
and New Spain, where I made great spoils. I 
hurnt and sunk nineteen sail of sMjjs, small and 
great. All the villages and towns that ever I 
landed at, I burned and sjioiled. And had I not 
been discovered upon the coast, I had taken great 
quantity of treasure. The matter of most profit to 
me was a great ship of the king's, which I took at 
California," &c. And the good Cavendish piously 
begins this statement, — " It hath pleased Almighty 
God." 

Indeed, our American annals have preserved the 
vestig-es of bai-barous warfare down to more recent 
times. I read in Williams's " History of Maine," 
that " Assacombuit, the Sagamore of the Anagunti- 
cook tribe, was remarkable for his turpitude and 
ferocity above all other known Indians ; that, in 
1705, Vaudreuil sent him to France, where he was 
introduced to the king. When he appeared at 



WAR. 187 

court, he lifted up his hand, and said, ' This hand 
has slain a hundred and fifty of your majesty's ene- 
mies within the territories of New England.' This 
so pleased the king that he knighted him, and or- 
dered a pension of eight livres a day to be paid 
him during life." This valuable person, on his re- 
turn to America, took to killing his own neighbors 
and kindred, with such appetite that his tribe com- 
bined against him, and would have killed him had 
he not fled his country for ever. 

The scandal which we feel in such facts certainly 
shows that we have got on a little. All history is 
the decline of war, though the slow decline. All 
that society has yet gained is mitigation : the doc- ^- 
trine of the right of war still remains. 

For ages (for ideas work in ages, and animate 
vast societies of men) the hmnan race has gone on 
under the tyranny — shall I so call it? — of this 
first brutish form of their effort to be men ; that is, 
for ages they have shared so much of the nature of 
the lower animals, the tiger and the shark, and the 
savages of the water-drop. They have nearly ex- 
hausted all the good and all the e\al of this form : 
they have held as fast to this degradation as their 
worst enemy could desire ; but all things have an 
end, and so has this. The eternal germination of ^ 
the better has unfolded new powers, new instincts, 
which were really concealed under this rough and 



188 WAR. 

base rind. The sublime question has startled one 
and another happy soul in different quarters of the 
globe, — Cannot love be, as well as hate ? Would 
not love answer the same end, or even a better? 
Cannot peace be, as well as war ? 

This thought is no man's invention, neither St. 
Pierre's nor Rousseau's, but the rising of the gen- 
eral tide in the human soul, — and rising highest, 
and first made visible, in the most simple and pure 
souls, who have therefore announced it to us before- 
hand ; but presently we all see it. It has now be- 
come so distinct as to be a social thought : societies 
can be formed on it. It is expounded, illustrated, 
defined, with different degrees of clearness ; and 
its actualization, or the measures it should inspire, 
predicted according to the light of each seer. 

The idea itself is the epoch ; the fact that it has 
become so distinct to any small number of jjersons 
as to become a subject of prayer and hope, of con- 
cert and discussion, — that is the commanding 
fact. This having come, much more will follow. 
Revolutions go not backward. The star once risen, 
though only one man in the hemisphere has yet seen 
its upper limb in the horizon, will mount and 
mount, until it becomes visible to other men, to 
multitudes, and climbs the zenith of all eyes. And 
so it is not a great matter how long men refuse to 
believe the advent of peace : war is on its last legs ; 



WAR 189 

and a universal peace is as sure as is the prevsi^ 
lence of civilization over barbarism, of liberal gov- 
ernments over feudal forms. The question for us 
is only IIoio soon ? 

That the project of peace should appear visionary 
to great numbers of sensible men ; should appear 
laughable even, to numbers ; should appear to the 
grave and good-natured to be embarrassed with ex- 
treme practical difficulties, — is very natural. ' This 
is a poor, tedious society of yours,' they say : ' we 
do not see what good can come of it. Peace ! why, 
we are all at peace now. But if a foreign nation 
should wantonly insult or plunder our commerce, 
or, worse yet, should land on our shores to rob and 
kill, you would not have us sit, and be robbed and 
killed ? You mistake the times ; you overestimate 
the virtue of men. You forget that the quiet which 
now sleeps in cities and in farms, which lets the 
wagon go unguarded and the farmhouse luibolted, 
rests on the perfect understanding of all men that 
the musket, the halter and the jail stand behind 
there, ready to punish any disturber of it. All ad- 
mit that this would be the best policy, if the world 
were all a church, if all men were the best men, if 
all would agree to accept this rule. But it is ab- 
surd for one nation to attempt it alone." 

In the first place, we answer that we never make 
much account of objections which merely respect 



190 WAR. 

the actual state of the world at this moment, but 
which admit the general expediency and permanent 
excellence of the project. What is the best must be 
the true ; and what is true, — that is, what is at bot- 
tom fit and agreeable to the constitution of man, — 
must at last prevail over all obstruction and all op- 
position. There is no good now enjoyed by society 
that was not once as problematical and visionary 
as this. It is the tendency of the true interest of 
man to become his desire and steadfast aim. 

But, . further, it is a lesson which ^1 history 
teaches wise men, to put trust in ideas, and not in 
circumstances. We have all grown up in the sight 
of frigates and navy yards, of armed forts and 
islands, of arsenals and militia. The reference to 
any foreign register will inform us of the nmnber of 
thousand or million men that are now under arjus 
in the vast colonial system of the British empire, of 
Kussia, Austria and France ; and one is scared to 
find at what a cost the peace of the globe is kept. 
This vast apparatus of artillery, of fleets, of stone 
bastions and trenches and embankments ; this 
incessant patrolling of sentinels ; this waving of 
national flags ; this reveille and evening gun ; this 
ma^rtial music and endless playing of marches and 
singing of military and naval songs seem to us to 
constitute an imposing actual, which wiJl not yield 
in centuries to the feeble, deprecatory voices of a^ 
handf id of friends of peace. 



WAR, ' 191 

Thus always we are daunted by the appearances ; 
not seeing that their whole value lies at bottom in 
the state of mind. It is really a thought that built 
this portentous war-establishment, and a thought 
shall also melt it away. Every nation and every 
man instantly surround themselves with a material 
apparatus which exactly corresponds to their moral 
state, or their state of thought. Observe how every 
truth and every error, each a thought of some 
man's mind, clothes itseK with societies, houses, 
cities, language, ceremonies, newspapers. Observe 
the ideas of the present day, — orthodoxy, skepti- 
cism, missions, popular education, temperance, anti- 
niasonry, anti-slavery ; see how each of these 
abstractions has embodied itself in an imposing 
apparatus in the community ; and how timber, 
brick, lime and stone have flown into convenient 
shape, obedient to the master-idea reigning in the 
minds of many persons. ; 

You shaU hear, some day, of a wild fancy which 
some man has in his brain, of the mischief of secret 
oaths. Come again one or two years afterwards, 
and you shall see it has built great houses of solid 
wood and brick and mortar. You shall see a hun- 
dred presses printing a million sheets ; you shall 
see men and horses and wheels made to walk, run 
and roll for it : this great body of matter thus 
executing that one man's wild thought. This hap- 



192 WAR. 

pens daily, yearly about us, with half thoughts, 
often with flimsy lies, pieces of policy and specida- 
tion. With good nursing they will last three or 
four years before they will come to nothing. But 
when a truth appears, — as, for instance, a percep- 
tion in the wit of one Columbus that there is land 
in the Western Sea ; though he alone of all men 
has that thought, and they all jeer, — it will build 
ships ; it will build fleets ; it will carry over half 
Spain and half England ; it will jalant a colony, a 
state, nations and half a globe fidl of men. 

We surround ourselves always, according to our 
freedom and ability, with true unages of ourselves 
in things, whether it be ships or books or cannons 
or churches. The standing army, the arsenal, the 
camp and the gibbet do not appertain to man. 
They only serve as an index to show where man is 
now ; what a bad, ungoverned temper he has ; 
what an ugly neighbor he is ; how his affections 
halt ; how low his hope lies. He who loves the 
bristle of bayonets only sees in theii- glitter what 
beforehand he feels in his heart. It is avarice and 
hatred ; it is that quivering lip, that cold, hating 
eye, which built magazines and powder-houses. 

It follows of course that the least change in the 
man will change his circumstances ; the least 
enlargement of his ideas, the least mitigation of his 
feelings in respect to other men ; if, for example, 



WAR. 193 

he could be Inspired with a tender kindness to the 
souls of men, and should come to feel that every 
man was another self with whom he might come to 
join, as left hand works with right. Every degree 
of the ascendancy of this feeling would cause the 
most strildng changes of external things : the tents 
would be struck ; the men-of-war would rot ashore ; 
the arms rust; the cannon would become street- 
posts ; the pikes, a fisher's harpoon ; the marching 
regiment would be a caravan of emigrants, -peaceful 
pioneers at the fountains of the Wabash and the 
Missouri. And so it must and will be: bayonet 
and sword must first retreat a little from their 
ostentatious prominence ; then quite hide them- 
selves, as the sheriff's halter does now, inviting the 
attendance only of relations and friends ; and then, 
lastl}'-, will be transferred to the museums of the 
curious, as poisoning and torturing tools are at this 
day. 

War and peace thus resolve themselves into a 
mercury of the state of cidtivation. At a certain 
stage of his progress, the man fights, if he be of a 
sound body and mind. At a certain higher stage, 
he makes no offensive demonstration, but is alert to 
repel injury, and of an unconquerable heart. At a 
still higher stage, he comes into the region of holi- 
ness ; passion has passed away from him ; his war- 
like nature is all converted into an active medicinal 

VOL. XI. 13 



194 WAR. 

principle; he sacrifices liimseK, and accepts with 
alacrity wearisome tasks of denial and charity ; 
but, being- attacked, he bears it and turns the other 
cheek, as one engaged, throughout his being, no 
longer to the service of an individual but to the 
conunon soul of all men. 

Since the peace question has been before the 
public mind, those who affirm its right and expe- 
diency have naturally been met with objections 
more or less weighty. There are cases frequently 
put by the curious, — moral problems, like those 
problems in arithmetic which in long winter even- 
ings the rustics try the hardness of their heads in 
ciphering out. And chiefly it is said, — Either ac- 
cept this principle for better, for worse, carry it out 
to the end, and meet its absurd consequences ; or 
else, if you pretend to set an arbitrary limit, a 
" Thus far, no farther," then give up the principle, 
and take that limit which the common-sense of all 
mankind has set, and which distinguishes offensive 
war as criminal, defensive war as just. Otherwise, 
if you go for no war, then be consistent, and give 
up seK-defence in the highway, in your own house. 
Will you push it thus far? Will you stick to your 
principle of non-resistance when your strong-box is 
broken open, when your wife and babes are insulted 
and slaughtered in your sight ? If you say yes, 
you only invite the robber and assassin ; and a 



WAR 195 

few bloody-minded desperadoes would soon butcher 
the good. 

In reply to this charge of absurdity on the ex- 
treme peace doctrine, as shown in the supposed con- 
sequences, I wish to say that such deductions con- 
sider only one half of the fact. They look only at 
the passive side of the friend of peace, only at his 
passivity ; they quite omit to consider his activity. 
But no man, it may be presumed, ever embraced 
the cause of peace and philanthropy for the sole 
end and satisfaction of being plundered and slain. 
A man does not come the length of the spirit of 
martyrdom without some active purpose, some 
equal motive, some flaming love. If you have a na- 
tion of men who have risen to that height of moral 
cultivation that they will not declare war or carry 
arms, for they have not so much madness left in 
their brains, you have a nation of lovers, of bene- 
factors, of true, great and able men. Let me know 
more of that nation ; I shall not find them defence- 
less, with idle hands springing at their sides. I 
shall find them men of love, honor and truth ; men 
of an immense industry; men whose influence is 
felt to the end of the earth ; men whose very look 
and voice carry the sentence of honor and shame ; 
and all forces yield to their euergy and persuasion. 
Whenever we see the doctrine of peace embraced 
by a nation, we may be assured it will not be one 



196 WAR. 

that invites injury ; but one, on the contrary, which 
has a friend in the bottom of the heart of every 
man, even of the violent and the base ; one against 
which no weapon can prosper ; one which is looked 
upon as the asylum of the human race and has the 
tears and the blessings of mankind. 

In the second place, as far as it respects individ- 
ual action in difficult and extreme cases, I will 
say, such cases seldom or never occur to the good 
and just man ; nor are we careful to say, or even 
to know, what in such crises is to be done. A wise 
man wiU never impawn his future being and action, 
and decide beforehand what he shall do in a given 
extreme event. Nature and God will instruct him 
in that hour. 

The question naturally arises. How is this new 
aspiration of the human mind to be made visible 
and real? How is it to pass out of thoughts into 
things ? 

Not, certainly, in the first place, in the way of 
routine and mere forms, — the universal specific of 
modern politics ; not by organizing a society, and 
going through a course of resolutions and public 
manifestoes, and being thus formally accredited to 
the public and to the civility of the newspapers. 
We have played this game to tediousness. In 
some of our cities they choose noted duellists as 
presidents and officers of anti-duelling societies. 



WAR. 197 

Men who love that bloated vanity called public 
opinion think all is well if they have once got their 
bantling through a sufficient course of speeches 
and cheerings, of one, two, or three public meetings ; 
as if they could do anything : they vote and vote, 
cry hurrah on both sides, no man responsible, no 
man caring a pin. The next season, an Indian 
war, or an aggression on our conunerce by Malays ; 
or the party this man votes with have an appropri- 
ation to carry through Congress : instantly he wags 
his head the other way, and cries. Havoc and war ! 

This is not to be carried by public opinion, but 
by private opinion, by private conviction, by private, 
dear and earnest love. For the only hope of this 
cause is in the increased insight, and it is to be ac- 
complished by the spontaneous teaching, of the cid- 
tivated soid, in its secret experience and meditation, 
— that it is now time that it should pass out of the 
state of beast into the state of man ; it is to hear 
the voice of God, which bids the devils that have 
rended and torn him come out of him and let him 
now be clothed and walk forth in his right mind. 

Nor, in the next place, is the peace principle to 
be carried into effect by fear. It can never be de- 
fended, it can never be executed, by cowards. 
Everything great must be done in the spirit of 
greatness. The manhood that has been in war 
must be transferred to the cause of peace, before 



198 WAR. 

war can lose its charm, and peace be venerable to 
men. 

The attractiveness of war shows one thing 
through all the throats of artillery, the thunders of 
so many sieges, the sack of towns, the jousts of 
chivalry, the shock of hosts, — this namely, the 
conviction of man universally, that a man should 
be himseK responsible, with goods, health and life, 
for his behavior ; that he should not ask of the 
State protection ; should ask nothing of the State ; 
should be himself a kingdom and a state ; fearing 
no man ; quite willing to use the opportunities and 
advantages that good government throw in his way, 
but nothing daunted, and not really the j)oorer if 
government, law and order went by the board ; be- 
cause in himself reside infinite resources ; because 
he is sure of himself, and never needs to ask 
another what in any crisis it behooves him to do. 

What makes to us the attractiveness of the 
Greek heroes ? of the Roman ? What makes the 
attractiveness of that romantic style of living which 
is the material of ten thousand plays and romances, 
from Shakspeare to Scott; the feudal baron, the 
French, the English nobility, the Warwicks, Plan- 
tagenets ? It is their absolute seK-dependence. I 
do not wonder at the dislike some of the friends of 
peace have expressed at Shakspeare. The veriest 
churl and Jacobin cannot resist the influence of the 



WAR. 199 

style and manners of these haughty lords. We are 
affected, as boys and barbarians are, hx the appear- 
ance of a few rich and wilful gentlemen who take 
their honor into their own keeping, defy the world, 
so confident are they of their courage and strength, 
and whose appearance is the arrival of so much 
life and virtue. In dangerous times they are pres- 
ently tried, and therefore their name is a flourish 
of trumpets. They, at least, affect us as a reality. 
They are not shams, but the substance of which 
that age and world is made. They are true heroes 
for their time. They make what is in their minds 
the greatest sacrifice. They will, for an injurious 
word, peril all their state and wealth, and go to the 
field. Take away that principle of responsibleness, 
and they become pirates and ruffians. 

This self-subsistency is the charm of war ; for 
this self-subsistency is essential to our idea of man. 
But another age comes, a truer religion and ethics 
open, and a man puts himself under the dominion 
of principles. I see him to be the servant of truth, 
of love and of freedom, and immoveable in the 
waves of the crowd. The man of principle, that is, 
the man who, without any flourish of trumpets, 
titles of lordship or train of guards, without any 
notice of his action abroad, expecting none, takes 
in solitude the right step uniformly, on his private 
choice and disdaining: consequences, — does not 



^& 



200 WAR. 

yield, in my imagination, to any man. He is will- 
ing to be hanged at liis own gate, rather tlian con- 
sent to any compromise of his freedom or the sup- 
pression of his conviction. I regard no longer those 
names that so tingled in my ear. This is a baron 
of a better nobility and a stouter stomach. 

The cause of peace is not the cause of cowardice. 
If peace is sought to be defended or preserved for 
the safety of the luxurious and the timid, it is a 
sham, and the peace will be base. War is better, 
and the peace will be broken. If peace is to be 
maintained, it must be by brave men, who have 
come up to the same height as the hero, namely, 
the will to carry their life in their hand, and stake 
it at any instant for their principle, but who have 
gone one step beyond the hero, and will not seek 
another man's life ; — men who have, by their in- 
tellectual insight or else by their moral elevation, 
attained such a perception of their own intrinsic 
worth, that they do not think property or their own 
body a sufficient good to be saved by such derelic- 
tion of principle as treating a man like a sheep. 

If the universal cry for reform of so many in- 
veterate abuses, with which society rings, — if the 
desire of a large class of }oung men for a faith and 
hope, intellectual and religious, such as they have 
not yet found, be an omen to be trusted ; if the dis- 
position to rely more ia study and in action on the 



WAR. 201 

unexplored riches of the human constitution, — if 
the search of the sublime laws of morals and the 
sources of hope and trust, in man, and not in 
hooks, in the present, and not in the past, proceed ; 
if the rising generation can be provoked to think it 
unworthy to nestle into every abomination of the 
past, and shall feel the generous darings of auster- 
ity and virtue, then war has a short day, and hu- 
man blood will cease to flow. 

It is of little consequence in what manner, 
through what organs, this purpose of mercy and 
holmess is effected. The proposition of the Con- 
gress of Nations is undoubtedly that at which the 
present fabric of our society and the present course 
of events do point. But the mmd, once prepared 
for the reign of principles, will easily find modes 
of expressing its will. There is the highest fitness 
in the place and time in which tliis enterprise is 
begim. Not in an obscure corner, not in a feudal 
Europe, not in an antiquated appanage where no 
onward step can be taken without rebellion, is this 
seed of benevolence laid in the furrow, with tears 
of hope ; but in tliis broad America of God and 
man, where the forest is only now falling, or yet to 
fall, and the green earth opened to the inundation 
of emigrant men from all quarters of oppression 
and guilt ; here, where not a family, not a few 
men, but mankind, shaU say what shall be ; here, 
we ask, Shall it be War, or shall it be Peace ? 



THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 

LECTURE READ IN THE TABERNACLE, NEW YORK CITY, 
MARCH 7, 1854. 



THE FUGIim: SLAVE LAW. 



I DO not often speak to public questions ; — they 
are odious and hurtful, and it seems like meddling 
or lea^'ing your work. I have my own spiiits in 
prison : — spirits in deeper prisons, whom no man 
visits if I do not. And then I see what havoc it 
makes with any good mind, a dissipated philan- 
thropy. The one thing not to be forgiven to intel- 
lectual persons is, not to know their own task, or to 
take their ideas from others. From this want of 
manly rest in their own and rash acceptance of 
other people's watchwords, come the imbecility and 
fatigue of their conversation. For they cannot 
affirm these from any original experience, and of 
course not with the natiu-al movement and total 
strength of their natiu^e and talent, but only from 
their memory, only from their cramp position of 
standing for their teacher. They say what they 
would have you believe, but what they do not quite 
know. 

My own habitual ^-iew is to the well-being of 
students or scholars. And it is only when the 



206 LECTURE ON THE 

public event affects them, that it very seriously 
touches me. And what I have to say is to them. 
For every man speaks mainly to a class whom he 
works with and more or less fully represents. It 
is to these I am beforehand related and engaged, 
in this audience or out of it — to them and not to 
others. And yet, when I say the class of scholars 
or students, — that is a class which comprises in 
some sort all mankind, comprises every man in the 
best hours of his life ; and in these days not only 
virtually but actually. For who are the readers 
and thinkers of 1854 ? Owing to the silent revolu- 
tion which the newspaper has wrought, this class 
has come in this country to take in all classes. 
Look into the morning trains which, from every 
suburb, carry the business men into the city to their 
shops, counting-rooms, work-yards and warehouses. 
With them enters the car — the newsboy, that hum- 
ble priest of politics, finance, philosophy, and relig- 
ion. He unfolds his magical sheets, — twopence 
a head his bread of knowledge costs — and instantly 
the entire rectangular assembly, fresh from their 
breakfast, are bending as one man to their second 
breakfast. There is, no doubt, chaff enough in 
what he brings; but there is fact, thought, and 
wisdom in the crude mass, from all regions of the 
world. 

I have lived all my life without suffering any 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 207 

known inconvenience from American Slavery. I 
never saw it ; I never heard the whip ; I never felt 
the check on my free speech and action, until, the 
other day, when Mr. Webster, by his personal in- 
fluence, brought the Fugitive Slave Law on the 
country. I say Mr. Webster, for though the Bill 
was not his, it is yet notorious that he was the life 
and soul of it, that he gave it all he had : it cost 
him his life, and under the shadow of his great 
name inferior men sheltered themselves, threw 
their ballots for it and made the law. I say infe- 
rior men. There were all sorts of what are called 
brilliant men, accomplished men, men of high sta- 
tion, a President of the United States, Senators, 
men of eloquent speech, but men without self-re- 
spect, without character, and it was strange to see 
that office, age, fame, talent, even a repute for 
honesty, all count for nothing. They had no opin- 
ions, they had no memory for what they had been 
saying like the Lord's Prayer all their lifetime : 
they were only looking to what their great Captain 
did : if he jumped, they jumped, if he stood on his 
head, they did. In ordinary, the supposed sense of 
their district and State is their guide, and that 
holds them to the part of liberty and justice. But 
it is always a little difficult to decipher what this 
public sense is ; and when a great man comes who 
knots up into himself the opinions and wishes of 



208 LECTURE ON THE 

the people, it is so much easier to follow him as 
an exponent of this. He too is responsible ; they 
will not be. It will always suffice to say, — "I fol- 
lowed hun." 

I saw plainly that the great show their legitimate 
power in nothing more than in their power to mis- 
guide us. I saw that a great man, deservedly ad- 
mired for his powers and their general right direc- 
tion, was able, — fault of the total want of stamina 
in public men, — when he failed, to break them all 
with him, to carry parties with him. 

In what I have to say of Mr. Webster I do not 
confound him with vulgar politicians before or 
since. There is always base ambition enough, men 
who calculate on the immense ignorance of the 
masses ; that is their quarry and farm : they use 
the constituencies at home only for their shoes. 
And, of course, they can drive out from the contest 
any honorable man. The low can best win the low, 
and all men like to be made much of. There are 
those too who have power and inspiration only to 
do ill. Their talent or their faculty deserts them 
when they undertake any thing right. Mr. Web- 
ster had a natural ascendancy of aspect and car- 
riage which distinguished him over all his contem- 
poraries. His countenance, his figure, and his 
manners were all in so grand a style, that he was, 
without effort, as superior to his most eminent 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 209 

rivals as they were to the humblest ; so that his 
arrival in any place was an event which drew 
crowds of people, who went to satisfy their eyes, 
and could not see him enough. I think they looked 
at him as the representative of the American Con- 
tinent. He was there in his Adamitic capacity, as 
if he alone of all men did not disappoint the eye 
and the ear, but was a fit figure in the landscape. 

I remember his appearance at Bunker's Hill. 
There was the Monument, and here was Webster. 
He knew well that a little more or less of rhetoric 
signified nothing : he was only to say plain and 
equal things, — grand things if he had them, and, 
if he had them not, only to abstain from saying 
unfit things, — and the whole occasion was an- 
swered by his presence. It was a place for behav- 
ior more than for speech, and Mr. Webster walked 
tlirough his part with entire success. His excellent 
organization, the perfection of his elocution and 
all that thereto belongs, — voice, accent, intonation, 
attitude, manner, — we shall not soon find again. 
Then he was so thoroughly simple and wise in his 
rhetoric ; he saw through his matter, hugged his 
fact so close, went to the principle or essential, and 
never indulged in a weak flourish, though he knew 
perfectly well how to make such exordiums, episodes 
and perorations as might give perspective to his 
harangues without in the least embarrassing his 

VOL. XI, 14 



210 LECTURE ON THE 

inarch or confounding his transitions. In his state- 
ment things lay in daylight ; we saw them in order 
as they were. Though he knew very well how to 
present his own personal claims, yet in his argu- 
ment he was intellectual, — stated his fact pure of 
all personality, so that his splendid wrath, when 
his eyes became lamps, was the wrath of the fact 
and the cause he stood for. 

His power, like that of all great masters, was 
not in excellent parts, but was total. He had a 
great and everywhere equal propriety. He worked 
with that closeness of adhesion to the matter in 
hand which a joiner or a chemist uses, and the same 
quiet and sm^e feeling of right to his place that an 
oak or a mountain have to theirs. After all his 
talents have been described, there remains that per- 
fect propriety which animated all the details of the 
action or speech with the character of the whole, 
so that his beauties of detail are endless. He 
seemed born for the bar, born for the senate, and 
took very naturally a leading part in large private 
and in public affairs ; for his head distributed 
things in their right places, and what he saw so 
well he compelled other people to see also. Great 
is the privilege of eloquence. What gratitude does 
every man feel to him who speaks well for the 
right, — who translates truth into language entirely 
plain and clear I 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 211 

The history of this country has given a disastrous 
importance to the defects of this great man's mind. 
Whether evil influences and the corruption of poli- 
tics, or whether original infirmity, it was the mis- 
fortune of his country that with this large under- 
standing he had not what is better than intellect, 
and the source of its health. It is a law of our 
nature that great thoughts come from the heart. 
If liis moral sensibility had been proportioned to 
the force of his understanding, what limits could 
have been set to his genius and beneficent power? 
But he wanted that deep source of inspiration. 
Hence a sterility of thought, the want of generaliz- 
ation in his speeches, and the curious fact that, 
with a general ability which impresses all the world, 
there is not a single general remark, not an obser- 
vation on life and manners, not an aphorism that 
can pass into literature from his writings. 

Four years ago to-night, on one of those high 
critical moments in history when great issues are 
determined, when the powers of right and wrong 
are mustered for conflict, and it lies with one man 
to give a casting vote, — Mr. Webster, most unex- 
pectedly, threw his whole weight on the side of 
Slavery, and caused by his personal and oflicial 
authority the passage of the Fugitive Slave Bill. 

It is remarked of the Americans that they value 
dexterity too much, and honor too little ; that they 



212 LECTURE ON TEE 

think they praise a man more by saying that he is 
" smart " than by saying that he is right. Whether 
the defect be national or not, it is the defect and 
calamity of Mr. Webster ; and it is so far true of 
his countrymen, namely, that the appeal is sure to 
be made to his physical and mental ability when 
his character is assailed. His speeches on the 
seventh of March, and at Albany, at Buffalo, at 
Syracuse and Boston are cited in justification. 
And Mr. Webster's literary editor believes that it 
was his wish to rest his fame on the sj)eech of the 
seventh of March. Now, though I have my own 
opinions on this seventh of March discourse and 
those others, and think them very transparent and 
very open to criticism, — yet the secondary merits 
of a speech, namely, its logic, its illustrations, its 
points, etc., are not here in question. Nobody 
doubts that Daniel Webster could make a good 
speech. Nobody doubts that there were good and 
plausible things to be said on the part of the South. 
But this is not a question of ingenuity, not a ques- 
tion of syllogisms, but of sides. How came he 
there f 

There are always texts and thoughts and argu- 
ments. But it is the genius and temj^er of the 
man which decides whether he will stand for right 
or for might. Who doubts the power of any fluent 
debater to defend either of our political parties, or 



FUGITU^ SLAVE LAW. 213 

any client in our courts ? There was tlie same law 
in England for Jeffries and Talbot and Yorke to 
read slavery out of, and for Lord Mansfield to read 
freedom. And in this country one sees that there 
is always margin enough in the statute for a liberal 
judge to read one way and a servile judge another. 

But the question which History will ask is 
broader. In the final hour when he was forced by 
the peremptory necessity of the closing armies to 
take a side, — did he take the part of great princi- 
ples, the side of humanity and justice, or the side 
of abuse and oppression and chaos ? 

Mr. Webster decided for Slavery, and that, when 
the aspect of the institution was no longer doubt- 
ful, no longer feeble and apologetic and proposing 
soon to end itself, but when it was strong, aggres- 
sive, and threatening an illimitable increase. He 
listened to State reasons and hopes, and left, with 
much complacency we are told, the testament of 
his speech to the astonished State of Massachusetts, 
vera pro gratis ; a ghastly result of all those years 
of experience in affairs, this, that there was noth- 
ing better for the foremost American man to tell 
his countrymen than that Slavery was now at that 
strength that they must beat down their conscience 
and become kidnappers for it. 

This was like the doleful speech falsely ascribed 
to the patriot Brutus : " Virtue, I have followed 



214 LECTURE ON THE 

thee through life, and I find thee but a shadow.'* 
Here was a question of an immoral law ; a question 
agitated for ages, and settled always in the same 
way by every great jurist, that an immoral law cam 
not be valid. Cicero, Grotius, Coke, Blackstone, 
Bm-lamaqul, Vattel, Burke, Jefferson, do all affirm 
this, and I cite them, not that they can give evi- 
dence to what is indisputable, but because, though 
lawyers and practical statesmen, the habit of their 
profession did not hide from them that this truth 
was the foundation of States. 

Here was the question, Are you for man and for 
the good of man ; or are you for the hurt and harm 
of man ? It was question whether man shall be 
treated as leather ? whether the Negroes shall be as 
the Indians were in Spanish America, a piece of 
money ? Whether this system, which is a kind of 
mill or factory for converting men into monkeys, 
shaU be upheld and enlarged ? And Mr. Webster 
and the country went for the application to these 
poor men of quadruped law. 

People were expecting a totally different course 
from Mr. Webster. If any man had in that hour 
possessed the weight with the country which he had 
acquired, he could have brought the whole country 
to its senses. But not a moment's pause was al- 
lowed. Angry parties went from bad to worse, 
and the decision of Webster was accompanied with 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 215 

everything offensive to freedom and good morals. 
There was something like an attempt to debauch 
the moral sentiment of the clergy and of the youth. 
Burke said he " would pardon something to the 
spirit of liberty." But by Mr. Webster the oppo- 
sition to the law was sharply called treason, and 
prosecuted so. He told the people at Boston " they 
must conquer their prejudices ; " that " agitation 
of the subject of Slavery must be suppressed." He 
did as immoral men usually do, made very low 
bows to the Christian Church, and went through 
all the Sunday decorums ; but when allusion was 
made to the question of duty and the sianctions of 
morality, he very frankly said, at Albany, " Some 
higher law, something existing somewhere between 
here and the third heaven, — I do not know where." 
And if the reporters say true, this wretched athe- 
ism found some laughter in the company. 

I said I had never in my life up to this time suf- 
fered from the Slave Institution. Slavery in Vir- 
ginia or Carolina was like Slavery in Africa or the 
Feejees, for me. There was an old fugitive law, 
but it had become or was fast becoming a dead let- 
ter, and, by the genius and laws of Massachusetts, 
inoperative. The new Bill made it operative, re- 
quired me to hunt slaves, and it found citizens in 
Massachusetts willing to act as judges and captors. 
Moreover, it discloses the secret of the new times, 



216 LECTURE ON THE 

that Slavery was no longer mendicant, but was be- 
come aggressive and dangeroias. 

The way in which the country was dragged to 
consent to this, and the disastrous defection (on 
the miserable cry of Union) of the men of letters, 
of the colleges, of educated men, nay, of some 
preachers of religion, — was the darkest passage in 
the history. It showed that our prosperity had 
hurt us, and that we could not be shocked by crime. 
It showed that the old religion and the sense of the 
right had faded and gone out ; that while we reck- 
oned ourselves a highly cultivated nation, our bel- 
lies had run away with our brains, and the princi- 
ples of culture and progress did not exist. 

For I suppose that liberty is an accurate index, 
in men and nations, of general progress. The the- 
ory of personal liberty must always appeal to the 
most refined communities and to the men of the 
rarest percej)tion and of delicate moral sense. For 
there are rights which rest on the finest sense of 
justice, and, with every degree of civility, it will be 
more truly felt and defined. A barbarous tribe of 
good stock will, by means of their best heads, se- 
cure substantial liberty. But where there is any 
weakness in a race, and it becomes in a degree 
matter of concession and protection from their 
stronger neighbors, the incompatibility and oifen- 
siveness of the wrong will of course be most evi- 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 217 

dent to the most cultivated. For it is, — Is it not ? 
— the essence of courtesy, of politeness, of religion, 
of love, to prefer another, to postpone oneself, to 
protect another from oneself ? That is the distinc- 
tion of the gentleman, to defend the weak and re- 
dress the injured, as it is of the savage and the 
brutal to usurp and use others. 

In Massachusetts, as we all know, there has al- 
ways existed a predominant conservative spirit. 
We have more money and value of every kind than 
other people, and wish to keep them, ^he plea on 
which freedom was resisted was Union. I went to 
certain serious men, who had a little more reason 
than the rest, and Inquired why they took this part ? 
They answered that they had no confidence in their 
strength to resist the Democratic party ; that they 
saw plainly that all was going to the utmost verge 
of licence ; each was vying with his neighbor to 
lead the party, by proposing the worst measure, and 
they threw themselves on the extreme conservatism, 
as a drag on the wheel : that they knew Cuba would 
be had, and Mexico would be had, and they stood 
stiffly on conservatism, and as near to monarchy as 
they could, only to moderate the velocity with which 
the car was running down the precipice. In short, 
their theory was despair ; the Whig wisdom was 
only reprieve, a waiting to be last devoured. They 
side with Carolina, or with. Arkansas, only to make 



218 LECTURE ON THE 

a show of Whig strength, wherewith to resist a 
little longer this general ruin. 

I have a respect for conservatism. I know how 
deeply founded it is in our nature, and how idle 
are all attempts to shake ourselves free from it. 
We are all conservatives, half Whig, half Demo- 
crat, in our essences: and might as well try to 
jump out of our skins as to escape from our Whig- 
gery. There are two forces in Nature, by whose 
antagonism we exist ; the power of Fate, Fortune, 
the laws of the world, the order of things, or how- 
ever else we choose to phrase it, the material neces- 
sities, on the one hand, — and WiU or Duty or 
Freedom on the other. 

May and Must, and the sense of right and duty, 
on the one hand, and the material necessities on 
the other : May and Must. In vulgar politics the 
Whig goes for what has been, for the old necessi- 
ties, — the Musts. The reformer goes for the Bet- 
ter, for the ideal good, for the Mays. But each of 
these parties must of necessity take in, in some 
measure, the principles of the other. Each wishes 
to cover the whole ground ; to hold fast and to ad- 
vance. Only, one lays the emphasis on keeping, 
and the other on advancing. I too think the musts 
are a safe company to follow, and even agreeable. 
But if we are Whigs, let us be Whigs of nature 
and science, and so for all the necessities. Let us 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 219 

know that, over and above all the musts of poverty 
and appetite, is the instinct of man to rise, and the 
instinct to love and help his brother. 

Now, Gentlemen, I think we have in this hour 
instruction again in the simplest lesson. Events 
roll, millions of men are engaged, and the result is 
the enforcing of some of those first commandments 
which we heard in the nursery. We never get be- 
yond our first lesson, for, really, the world exists, 
as I understand it, to teach the science of liberty, 
which begins with liberty from fear. 

The events of this month are teaching one tiling 
plain and clear, the worthlessness of good tools to 
bad workmen ; that official papers are of no use ; 
resolutions of public meetings, platforms of conven- 
tions, no, nor laws, nor constitutions, any more. 
These are all declaratory of the will of the moment, 
and are passed with more levity and on grounds far 
less honorable than ordinary business transactions 
of the street. 

You relied on the constitution. It has not the 
word slave in it; and very good argument has 
shown that it would not warrant the crimes that are 
done under it ; that, with provisions so vague for 
an object not named, and which could not be availed 
of to claim a barrel of sugar or a barrel of corn, — 
the robbing of a man and of all his posterity is ef- 
fected. You relied on the Supreme Court. The 



220 LECTURE ON THE 

law was riglit, excellent law for the lambs. But 
what if unhajspily the judges were chosen from the 
wolves, and give to all the law a wolfish interpreta- 
tion ? You relied on the Missouri Compromise. 
That is ridden over. You relied on State sover- 
eignty in the Free States to protect their citizens. 
They are driven with contempt out of the courts 
and out of the territory of the Slave States, — if 
they are so happy as to get out with their lives, — 
and now you relied on these dismal guaranties in- 
famously made in 1850 ; and, before the body of 
Webster is yet crumbled, it is found that they have 
crumbled. This eternal monument of his fame and 
of the Union is rotten in four years. They are no 
guaranty to the Free States. They are a guaranty 
to the Slave States that, as they have hitherto met 
with no repulse, they shall meet with none. 

I fear there is no reliance to be put on any kind 
or form of covenant, no, not on sacred forms, none 
on churches, none on bibles. For one would have 
said that a Christian would not keep slaves ; — but 
the Christians keep slaves. Of course they will not 
dare to read the Bible ? Won't they ? They quote 
the Bible, quote Paul, quote Christ to justify slav- 
ery. If slavery is good, then is lying, theft, arson, 
homicide, each and all good, and to be maintained 
by Union societies. 

These things show that no forms, neither consti- 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 221 

tiitions, nor laws, nor covenants, nor churches, nor 
bibles, are of any use in themselves. The Devil 
nestles comfortably into them all. There is no help 
but in the head and heart and hamstrings of a man. 
Covenants are of no use without honest men to keep 
them ; laws of none, but with loyal citizens to obey 
them. To interpret Christ it needs Christ in the 
heart. The teachings of the Spirit can be appre- 
hended only by the same spirit that gave them 
forth. To make good the cause of Freedom, you 
must draw off from all foolish trust in others. You 
must be citadels and warriors, yourselves, declara- 
tions of Independence, the charter, the battle and 
the victory. Cromwell said, " We can only resist 
the superior training of the King's soldiers, by en- 
listing godly men." And no man has a right to 
hope that the laws of New York will defend him 
from the contamination of slaves another day until 
he has made up his mind that he will not owe his 
protection to the laws of New York, but to his own 
sense and spirit. Then he protects New York. He 
only who is able to stand alone is qualified for so- 
ciety. And that I understand to be the end for 
which a soul exists in this world, — to be himself 
the counterbalance of all falsehood and all wrong. 
" The army of unright is encamped from pole to 
pole, but the road of victory is known to the just." 
Everything may be taken away ; he may be poor, 



222 LECTURE ON THE 

lie may be houseless, yet lie will know out of his 
arms to make a pillow, and out of his breast a bol- 
ster. Why have the minority no influence ? Be- 
cause they have not a real minority of one. 

I conceive that thus to detach a man and make 
him feel that he is to owe all to himself, is the way 
to make him strong and rich ; and here the opti- 
mist must find, if anywhere, the benefit of Slavery. 
We have many teachers ; we are in this world for 
culture, to be instructed in realities, in the laws of 
moral and intelligent nature ; and our education is 
not conducted by toys and luxuries, but by austere 
and rugged masters, by poverty, solitude, passions, 
War, Slavery ; to know that Paradise is under the 
shadow of swords ; that divine sentiments which 
are always soliciting us arjp breathed into us from 
on high, and are an offset to a Universe of suffer- 
ing and crime ; that self-reliance, the height and 
perfection of man, is reliance on God. The in- 
sight of the religious sentiment will disclose to him 
unexpected aids in the nature of things. The Per- 
sian Saadi said, " Beware of hurting the orphan. 
When the orphan sets a-crying, the tlrrone of the 
Almighty is rocked from side to side." 

Whenever a man has come to this mind, that 
there is no Church for him but his believing 
prayer ; no Constitution but his dealing well and 
justly with his neighbor ; no liberty but his invinci- 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 223 

ble will to do right, — then certain aids and allies 
will promptly appear: for the constitution of the 
Universe is on his side. It is of no use to vote 
down gravitation or morals. What is useful will 
last, whilst that which is hurtful to the world will 
sink beneath all the opposing forces which it must 
exasperate. The terror which the Marseillaise 
struck into oppression, it thunders again to-day, 

" Tout est soklat pour vous eombattre." 
Everything turns soldier to fight you down. The 
end for which man was made is not crime in any 
form, and a man cannot steal without incurring 
the penalties of the thief, though all the legislatures 
vote that it is virtuous, and though there be a gen- 
eral conspiracy among scholars and official persons 
to hold him up, and to say, " Nothing is good but 
stealing.'''' A man who commits a crime defeats 
the end of his existence. He was created for ben- 
efit, and he exists for harm ; and as well - doing 
makes power and wisdom, ill -doing takes them 
away. A man who steals another man's labor 
steals away liis own faculties ; his integrity, his hu- 
manity is flowing away from him. The habit of 
oppression cuts out the moral eyes, and, though the 
intellect goes on simulating the moral as before, its 
sanity is gradually destroyed. It takes away the 
presentiments. 

I suppose in general this is allowed, that if you 



224 LECTURE ON THE 

have a nice question of right and wrong, you would 
not go with it to Louis Napoleon, or to a political 
hack ; or to a slave-driver. The habit of mind of 
traders in power would not be esteemed favorable 
to delicate moral perception. American slavery 
affords no exception to this rule. No excess of 
good nature or of tenderness in individuals has 
been able to give a new character to the system, to 
tear down the whipping-house. The plea that the 
negro is an inferior race sounds very oddly in my 
ear in the mouth of a slave-holder. " The masters 
of slaves seem generally anxious to prove that they 
are not of a race superior in any noble quality to 
the meanest of their bondmen." And indeed when 
the Southerner points to the anatomy of the negro, 
and talks of chimpanzee, — I recall Montesquieu's 
remark, " It will not do to say that negroes are 
men, lest it should turn out that whites are not." 

Slavery is disheartening ; but Nature is not so 
helpless but it can rid itself at last of every wrong. 
But the spasms of Nature are centuries and ages, 
and will tax the faith of short-lived men. Slowly, 
slowly the Avenger comes, but comes surely. The 
proverbs of the nations affirm these delays, but af- 
firm the arrival. They say, " God may consent, 
but not forever." The delay of the Divine Justice 
— this was the meaning and soul of the Greek 
Tragedy ; this the soul of their religion. " There 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 225 

has come, too, one to whom hirking warfare is dear, 
Retribution, with a soul full of wiles ; a violator of 
hospitality ; guileful without the guilt of guile ; 
limping, late in her arrival." They said of the 
happiness of the unjust, that " at its close it begets 
itself an offspring and does not die childless, and 
instead of good fortune, there sprouts forth for pos- 
terity ever-ravening calamity : " 

" For evil word shall evil word be said, 
For murder-stroke a murder-stroke be paid. 
Who smites must smart." 

These delays, you see them now in the temper of 
the times. The national spirit in this country is so 
drowsy, pre-occupied with interest, deaf to principle. 
The Anglo-Saxon race is proud and strong and self- 
ish. They believe only in Anglo-Saxons. In 1825 
Greece found America deaf, Poland found America 
deaf, Italy and Hungary found her deaf. England 
maintains trade, not liberty ; stands against Greece ; 
against Hungary ; against Schleswig Holstein ; 
against the French Republic, whilst it was a re- 
public. 

To faint hearts the times offer no invitation, and 
torpor exists here throughout the active classes on 
the subject of domestic slavery and its appalling 
aggressions. Yes, that is the stern edict of Provi- 
dence, that liberty shall be no hasty frttit, but that 
event on event, population on population, age on 

VOL. XI. 15 



226 LECTURE ON THE 

age, shall cast itself into the opposite scale, and not 
until liberty has slowly accumulated weight enough 
to countervail and preponderate against all this, 
can the sufficient recoil come. All the great cities, 
all the refined circles, all the statesmen, Guizot, 
Pahnerston, Webster, Calhoun, are sure to be 
found befriending liberty with their words, and 
crushing it with their votes. Liberty is never 
cheap. It is made difficult, because freedom is the 
accomplishment and perfectness of man. He is a 
finished man ; earning and bestowing good ; equal 
to the world ; at home in nature and dignifying 
that ; the sun does not see anything nobler, and 
has nothing to teach him. Therefore mountains 
of difficulty must be surmounted, stern trials met, 
wiles of seduction, dangers, healed by a quarantine 
of calamities to measure his strength before he dare 
say, I am free. 

Whilst the inconsistency of slavery with the prin- 
ciples on which the world is built guarantees its 
downfall, I own that the patience it requires is 
almost too sublime for mortals, and seems to de- 
mand of us more than mere hoping. And when 
one sees how fast the rot spreads, — it is growing 
serious — I think we demand of superior men that 
they be superior in this, — that the mind and the 
virtue shall give their verdict in their day, and ac- 
celerate so far the progress of civilization. Posses- 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 227 

sion is sure to throw its stupid strength for exist- 
ing power, and appetite and ambition will go for 
that. Let the aid of virtue, intelligence and educa- 
tion be cast where they rightfully belong. They 
are organically ours. Let them be loyal to their 
own. I wish to see the instructed class here know 
their own flag, and not fire on their comrades. We 
should not forgive the clergy for taking on every 
issue the immoral side ; nor the Bench, if it put 
itself on the side of the culprit ; nor the Govern- 
ment, if it sustain the mob against the laws. 

It is a potent support and ally to a brave man 
standing single, or with a few, for the right, and 
out-voted and ostracized, to know that better men 
in other parts of the country appreciate the service 
and will rightly report him to his own and the 
next age. Without this assurance, he wiU sooner 
sink. He may well say. If my countrymen do not 
care to be defended, I too will decline the contro- 
versy, from which I only reap invectives and ha- 
tred. Yet the lovers of liberty may with reason 
tax the coldness and indifferentism of scholars and 
literary men. They are lovers of liberty in Greece 
and Rome and in the English Commonwealth, but 
they are lukewarm lovers of the liberty of America 
in 1854. The Universities are not, as in Hobbes's 
time, " the core of rebellion," no, but the seat of in- 
ertness. They have forgotten their allegiance to 



228 LECTURE ON THE 

the Muse, and grown worldly and political. I lis- 
tened, lately, on one of those occasions when the 
University chooses one of its distinguished sons 
returning from the political arena, believing that 
Senators and Statesmen would be glad to throw off 
the harness and to dip again in the Castalian pools. 
But if audiences forget themselves, statesmen do 
not. The low bows to all the crockery gods of the 
day were duly made : — only in one part of the 
discourse the orator allowed to transpire rather 
against his will a little sober sense. It was this. 
' I am as you see a man virtuously inclined, and 
only corrupted by my profession of politics. I 
should prefer the right side. You, gentlemen of 
these literary and scientific schools, and the impor- 
tant class you represent, have the power to make 
your verdict clear and prevailing. Had you done 
so, you would have found me its glad organ and 
qjiampion. Abstractly, I should have preferred 
that side. But you have not done it. You have 
not spoken out. You have failed to arm me. I 
can only deal with masses as I find them. Ab- 
stractions are not for me. I go then for such 
parties and opinions as have provided me with a 
working apparatus. I give you my word, not with- 
out regret, that I was first for you ; and though I 
am now to deny and condemn you, you see it is 
not my will but the party necessity.' Having 



FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 229 

made this manifesto and professed his adoration 
for liberty in the time of his grandfathers, he pro- 
ceeded with his work of denonncing freedom and 
freemen at the present day, much in the tone and 
spirit in which Lord Bacon prosecuted his bene- 
factor Essex. He denounced every name and as- 
pect under which liberty and progress dare show 
themselves in this age and country, but with a lin- 
gering conscience which qualified each sentence 
with a recommendation to mercy. 

But I put it to every noble and generous spirit, 
to every jDoetic, every heroic, every religious heart, 
that not so is our learning,' our education, our po- 
etry, our worship to be declared. Liberty is ag- 
gressive, Liberty is the Crusade of all brave and 
conscientious men, the Epic Poetry, the new relig- 
ion, the chivalry of all gentlemen. This is the op- 
pressed Lady whom true kniglits on their oath and 
honor must rescue and save. 

Now at last we are disenchanted and shall have 
no more false hopes. I respect the Anti-Slavery 
Society. It is the Cassandra that has foretold all 
that has befallen, fact for fact, years ago ; foretold 
all, and no man laid it to heart. It seemed, as the 
Turks say, " Fate makes that a man should not be- 
lieve his own eyes." But the Fugitive Law did 
much to unglue the eyes of men, and now the Ne- 
braska Bill leaves us staring. The Anti-Slavery 



230 THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW. 

Society will add many members this year. The 
Whig Party will join it : the Democrats will join 
it. The population of the Free States wall join it. 
I doubt not, at last, the Slave States will join it. 
But be that sooner or later, and whoever comes or 
stays away, I hope we have reached the end of our 
unbelief, have come to a belief that there is a di- 
vine Providence in the world, which will not save 
us but through our own co-operation. 



THE ASSAULT UPON MR. SUMNER. 

SPEECH AT A MEETING OF THE CITIZENS IN THE TOWN HALL, 
IN CONCORD, MAY 26, 1856. 



THE ASSAULT UPON MK. SUMNEE. 



Mk. Chairman : — I sympathize heartily with 
the spirit of the resolutions. The events of the last 
few years and months and days have taught us the 
lessons of centuries. I do not see how a barbarous 
community and a civilized community can constitute 
one State. I think we must get rid of slavery, or 
we must get rid of freedom. Life has not parity 
of value in the free state and in the slave state. In 
one, it is adorned with education, with skilful lar 
bor, with arts, with long prospective interests, with 
sacred family ties, with honor and justice. In the 
other, life is a fever ; man is an animal, given to 
pleasure, frivolous, irritable, spending his days in 
hunting and practising with deadly weapons to de- 
fend himself against his slaves and against his com- 
panions brought up in the same idle and danger- 
ous way. Such people live for the moment, they 
have properly no future, and readily risk on every 
passion a life which is of small value to themselves 
or to others. Many years ago, when Mr. Webster 
was challenged in Washington to a duel by one of 



234 SPEECH ON THE 

these madcaps, his friends came forward with 
prompt good sense and said such a thing was not 
to be thought of ; Mr. Webster's life was the prop- 
erty of his friends and of the whole country, and 
was not to be risked on the turn of a vagabond's 
ball. Life and life are incommensurate. The 
whole State of South Carolina does not now offer 
one or any number of persons who are to be 
weighed for a moment in the scale with such a per- 
son as the meanest of them all has now struck down. 
The very conditions of the game must always be, 
— the worst life staked against the best. It is the 
best whom they desire to kill. It is only when they 
cannot answer your reasons, that they wish to knock 
you down. If, therefore, Massachusetts could send 
to the Senate a better man than Mr. Sumner, his 
death would be only so much the more quick and 
certain. Now, as men's bodily strength, or skill 
with knives and guns, is not usually in proportion 
to their knowledge and mother-wit, but oftener in 
the inverse ratio, it will only do to send foolish per- 
sons to Washington, if you wish them to be safe. 

The outrage is the more shocking from the singu- 
larly pure character of its victim. Mr. Sumner's 
position is exceptional in its honor. He had not 
taken his degrees in the caucus and in hack politics. 
It is notorious that, in the long time when his elec- 
tion was pending, he refused to take a single step 



ASSAULT UPON MR. SUMNER. 235 

to secure it. He would not so much as go up to 
the State House to shake hands with this or that 
person whose good will was reckoned important by 
his friends. He was elected. It was a homage to 
character and talent. In Congress, he did not rush 
into party position. He sat long silent and studi- 
ous. His friends, I remember, were told that they 
would find Sumner a man of the world like the 
rest ; ' 't is quite impossible to be at Washington 
and not bend ; he will bend as the rest have done.' 
Well, he did not bend. He took his position and 
kept it. He meekly bore the cold shoulder from 
some of his New England colleagnies, the hatred 
of his enemies, the pity of the indifferent, cheered 
by the love and respect of good men with whom 
he acted ; and has stood for the North, a little in 
advance of all the North, and therefore without 
adequate support. He has never faltered in his 
maintenance of justice and freedom. He has gone 
beyond the large expectation of his friends in his in- 
creasing ability and his manlier tone. I have heard 
that some of his political friends tax him with indo- 
lence or negligence in refusing to make electioneer- 
ing speeches, or otherwise to bear his part in the 
labor which party-organization requires. I say it 
to his honor. But more to his honor are the faults 
which his enemies lay to his charge. I think, sir, 
if Mr. Sumner had any vices, we should be likely 



236 SPEECH ON THE 

to hear of them. They have fastened their eyes 
like microscopes for five years on every act, word, 
manner and movement, to find a flaw, — and with 
what result ? His opponents accuse him neither of 
drunkenness, nor debauchery, nor job, nor specula- 
tion, nor rapacity, nor jsersonal aims of any kind. 
No ; but with what ? Why, beyond this charge, 
which it is impossible was ever sincerely made, that 
he broke over the proprieties of debate, I find him 
accused of publishing his opinion of the Nebraska 
conspiracy in a letter to the people of the United 
States, with discourtesy. Then, that he is an abo- 
litionist ; as if every sane human being were not 
an abolitionist, or a believer that all men should be 
free. And the third crime he stands charged with, 
is, that his speeches were written before they were 
spoken ; which of course must be true in Sumner's 
case, as it was true of Webster, of Adams, of Cal- 
houn, of Burke, of Chatham, of Demosthenes ; of 
every first-rate speaker that ever lived. It is the 
high compliment he pays to the intelligence of the 
Senate and of the country. When the same re- 
proach was cast on the first orator of ancient times 
by some caviler of his day, he said, " I should be 
ashamed to come with one unconsidered word be- 
fore such an assembly." Mr. Chairman, when I 
think of these most small faidts as the worst which 
party hatred could allege, I think I may borrow 



ASSAULT UPON MR. SUMNER. 237 

the language which Bishop Burnet applied to Sir 
Isaac Newton, and say that Charles Sumner " has 
the whitest soul I ever knew." 

Well, sir, this noble head, so comely and so wise, 
must be the target for a pair of bullies to beat with 
clubs. The murderer's brand shall stamp their fore- 
heads wherever they may wander in the earth. But 
I wish, sir, that the high resj)ects of this meeting 
shall be expressed to Mr. Sumner ; that a copy of 
the resolutions that have been read may be for- 
warded to him. I wish that he may know the shud- 
der of terror which ran through all this community 
on the first tidings of this brutal attack. Let him 
hear that every man of worth in New England 
loves his virtues ; that every mother thinks of him 
as the protector of families; that every friend of 
freedom thinks him the friend of freedom. And if 
our arms at this distance cannot defend him from 
assassins, we confide the defence of a life so pre- 
cious, to all honorable men and true patriots, and 
to the Almighty Maker of men. 



SPEECH 

AT THE KANSAS RELIEF MEETING IN CAMBRIDGE, WEDNESDAY 
EVENING, SEPTEMBER 10, 1856. 



SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 



I REGRET, with aU this company, the absence of 
Mr. Whitman of Kansas, whose narrative was to 
constitute the interest of this meeting. Mr. Whit- 
man is not here ; but knowing, as we aU do, why 
he is not, what duties kept him at home, he is more 
than present. His vacant chair speaks for him. 
For quite other reasons, I had been wiser to have 
stayed at home, unskilled as I am to address a po- 
litical meeting, but it is impossible for the most re- 
cluse to extricate himself from the questions of the 
times. 

There is this peculiarity about the case of Kan- 
sas, that all the right is on one side. We hear the 
screams of hunted wives and children answered by 
the howl of the butchers. The testimony of the 
telegraphs from St. Louis and the border confirm 
the worst details. The printed letters of the bor- 
der ruffians avow the facts. When pressed to look 
at the cause of the mischief in the Kansas laws, the 
President falters and declines the discussion ; but 
his supporters in the Senate, Mr. Cass, Mr. Geyer, 

VOL. xr. 16 



242 SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 

Mr. Hunter, speak out, and declare the intolerable 
atrocity of the code. It is a maxim that all party 
spirit produces the incapacity to receive natural im- 
pressions from facts ; and our recent political history 
has abundantly borne out the maxim. But these de- 
tails that have come from Kansas are so horrible, 
that the hostile press have but one word in reply, 
namely, that it is all exaggeration, 'tis an Aboli- 
tion lie. Do the Committee of Investigation say 
that the outrages have been overstated ? Does 
their dismal catalogue of private tragedies show it ? 
Do the private letters ? Is it an exaggeration, that 
Mr. Hopps of Somerville, Mr, Hoyt of Deerfield, 
Mr. Jennison of Groton, Mr. Phillips of Berkshire, 
have been murdered? That Mr. Robinson of 
Fitchburg has been imprisoned? Eev. Mr. Nute 
of Spring-field seized, and up to this time we have 
no tidings of his fate ? 

In these calamities under which they suffer, and 
the worse which threaten them, the people of Kan- 
sas ask for bread, clothes, arms and men, to save 
them alive, and enable them to stand against these 
enemies of the human race. They have a right to 
be helped, for they have helped themselves. 

This aid must be sent, and this is not to be doled 
out as an ordinary charity ; but bestowed up to the 
magnitude of the want, and, as has been elsewhere 
said, " on the scale of a national action." I think 



SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 243 

we are to give largely, lavishly, to these men. 
And we must prepare to do it. We must learn to 
do with less, live in a smaller tenement, sell our 
apple-trees, our acres, our pleasant houses. I know 
people who are making haste to reduce their ex- 
penses and pay their debts, not with a view to new 
accumvdations, but in preparation to save and earn 
for the benefit of the Kansas emigrants. 

We must have aid from individuals, — we must 
also have aid from the State. I know that the last 
Legislature refused that aid. I know that lawyers 
hesitate on technical grounds, and wonder what 
method of relief the Legislature will apply. But 
I submit that, in a case like this, where citizens of 
Massachusetts, legal voters here, have emigrated to 
national territory under the sanction of every law, 
and are then set on by highwaymen, driven from 
their new homes, pillaged, and numbers of them 
killed and scalped, and the whole world knows that 
this is no accidental brawl, but a systematic war to 
the knife, and in defiance of all laws and liberties, 
I submit that the Governor and Legislature should 
neither slumber nor sleep till they have found out 
how to send effectual aid and comfort to these poor 
farmers, or else should resign their seats to those 
who can. But first let them hang the halls of the 
State House with black crape, and order funeral 
service to be said there for the citizens whom they 
were unable to defend. 



244 SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 

We stick at the technical difficulties. I think 
there never was a people so choked and stultified 
by forms. We adore the forms of law, instead of 
making them vehicles of wisdom and justice. I 
like the primary assembly. I own I have little es- 
teem for governments. I esteem them only good 
in the moment when they are established. I set 
the private man first. He only who is able to stand 
alone is qualified to be a citizen. Next to the pri- 
vate man, I value the primary assembly, met to 
watch the government and to correct it. That is 
the theory of the American State, that it exists to 
execute the will of the citizens, is always responsi- 
ble to them, and is always to be changed when it 
does not. First, the private citizen, then the pri- 
mary assembly, and the government last. 

In this country for the last few years the govern- 
ment has been the chief obstruction to the common 
weal. Who doubts that Kansas would, have been 
very well settled, if the United States had let it 
alone ? The government armed and led the ruffians 
against the poor farmers. I do not know any story 
so gloomy as the politics of this country for the 
last twenty years, centralizing ever more manifestly 
round one spring, and that a vast crime, and ever 
more plainly, until it is notorious that all promo- 
tion, power and policy are dictated from one source, 
— illustrating the fatal effects of a false position 



SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 245 

to demoralize legislation and put the best people 
always at a disadvantage ; — one crime always pres- 
ent, always to be varnished over, to find fine names 
for ; and we free-statesmen, as accomplices to the 
guilt, ever in the power of the grand offender. 

Language has lost its meaning in the universal 
cant. Representative Government is really mis- 
representative ; Union is a conspiracy against the 
Northern States which the Northern States are to 
have the privilege of paying for ; the adding of 
Cuba and Central America to the slave marts is 
enlarging the area of Freedom. Manifest Des- 
tiny, Democracy, Freedom, fine names for an ugly 
thing. They call it otto of rose and lavender, — I 
call it bilge water. They call it Chivalry and 
Freedom ; I call it the stealing all the earnings of 
a poor man and the earnings of his little girl and 
boy, and the earnings of all that shall come from 
him, his children's children forever. 

But this is Union, and this is Democracy ; and 
our poor people, led by the nose by these fine 
words, dance and sing, ring bells and fire cannon, 
with every new link of the chain which is forged 
for their limbs by the plotters in the Capitol. 

What are the results of law and union ? There 
is no Union. Can any citizen of Massachusetts 
travel in honor through Kentucky and Alabama 
and speak his mind ? Or can any citizen of the 



246 SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 

Southern country who happens to think kidnapping 
a bad thing, say so ? Let Mr. Underwood of Vir- 
ginia answer. Is it to be supposed that there are 
no men in Carolina who dissent from the popular 
sentiment now reigning there? It must happen, 
in the variety of human opinions, that there are 
dissenters. They are silent as the grave. Are 
there no women in that country, — women, who al- 
ways carry the conscience of a people? Yet we 
have not heard one discordant whisper. 

In the free States, we give a snivelling support 
to slavery. The jiidges give cowardly interpreta- 
tions to the lavt^, in direct opposition to the known 
foundation of all law, that every immoral statute 
is void. And here of Kansas, the President says : 
" Let the complainants go to the courts ; " though 
he knows that when the poor plundered farmer 
comes to the court, he finds the ringleader who has 
robbed him, dismounting from his own horse, and 
unbuckling his knife to sit as his judge. 

The President told the Kansas Committee that 
the whole difficulty grew from " the factious spirit 
of the Kansas people, respecting institutions which 
they need not have concerned themselves about." 
A very remarkable speech from a Democratic Pres- 
ident to his fellow citizens, that they are not to 
concern themselves with institutions which they 
alone are to create and determine. The President 



SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 247 

is a lawyer, and should know the statutes of the 
land. But I borrow the language of an eminent 
man, used long since, with far less occasion : " If 
that be law, let the ploughshare be run under the 
foundations of the Capitol ; " — and if that be Gov- 
ernment, extirpation is the only cure. 

I am glad to see that the terror at disunion and 
anarchy is disappearing. Massachusetts, in its he- 
roic day, had no government — was an anarchy. 
Every man stood on his own feet, was his own gov- 
ernor ; and there was no breach of peace from Cape 
Cod to Mount Hoosac. California, a few years 
ago, by the testimony of all people at that time in 
the country, had the best government that ever ex- 
isted. Pans of gold lay drying outside of every 
man's tent, in perfect security. The land was meas- 
ured into little strips of a few feet wide, all side by 
side. A bit of ground that your hand could cover 
was worth one or two hundred dollars, on the edge 
of your strip ; and there was no dispute. Every 
man throughout the country was armed with knife 
and revolver, and it was known that instant justice 
would be administered to each offence, and perfect 
peace reigned. For the Saxon man, when he is 
well awake, is not a pirate but a citizen, all made 
of hooks and eyes, and links himseK naturally to 
his brothers, as bees hook themselves to one an- 
other and to their queen in a loyal swarm. 



248 SPEECH ON AFFAIRS IN KANSAS. 

But tlie hour is coming when the strongest will 
not be strong' enough. A harder task will the new 
revolution of the nineteenth century be, than was 
the revolution of the eighteenth century. I think 
the American Revolution bought its glory cheap. 
If the problem was new, it was simple. If there 
were few people, they were united, and the enemy 
3,000 miles off. But now, vast property, gigantic 
interests, family connections, webs of party, cover 
the land with a network that immensely multiplies 
the dangers of war. 

Fellow Citizens, in these times full of the fate of 
the Republic, I think the towns should hold town 
meetings, and resolve themselves into Committees 
of Safety, go into permanent sessions, adjourning 
from week to week, from month to month. I wish 
we could send the Sergeant-at-arms to stop every 
American who is about to leave the country. Send 
home every one who is abroad, lest they should 
find no country to return to. Come home and stay 
at home, while there is a country to save. When 
it is lost it will be time enough then for any who 
are luckless enough to remain alive to gather up 
their clothes and depart to some land where free- 
dom exists. 



REMAEKS 



AT A MEETING FOR THE RELIEF OF THE FAMILY OF JOHN 

BROWN, AT TREMONT TEMPLE, BOSTON, 

NOVEMBER 18, 1859. 



JOHN BROWN: SPEECH AT BOSTON. 



Mr. Chairman and Fellow Citizens : 

I share the sympathy and sorrow which have 
brought us together. Gentlemen who have pre- 
ceded me have well said that no wall of separation 
could here exist. This commanding event which 
has brought us together, eclipses all others which 
have occurred for a long time in our history, and I 
am very glad to see that this sudden interest in the 
hero of Harper's Ferry has provoked an extreme cu- 
riosity in all parts of the Republic, in regard to the 
details of his history. Every anecdote is eagerly- 
sought, and I do not wonder that gentlemen find 
traits of relation readily between him and them- 
selves. One finds a relation in the church, another 
in the profession, another in the place of his birth. 
He was happily a representative of the American 
Republic. Captain John Brown is a farmer, the 
fifth in descent from Peter Brown, who came to 
Plymouth in the Mayflower, in 1620. All the six 
have been farmers. His grandfather, of Simsbury, 
in Connecticut, was a captain in the Revolution. 



252 REMARKS AT A MEETING FOR 

His father, largely interested as a raiser of stock, 
became a contractor to supply the army with beef, 
in the war of 1812, and our Captain John Brown, 
then a boy, with his father, was present and wit- 
nessed the surrender of General Hull. He cher- 
ishes a great respect for his father, as a man of 
strong character, and his respect is probably just. 
For himself, he is so transparent that all men 
see him through. He is a man to make friends 
wherever on earth courage and integrity are es- 
teemed, the rarest of heroes, a pure idealist, with 
no by-ends of his own. Many of you have seen 
him, and every one who has heard him speak has 
been impressed alike by his simple, artless good- 
ness, joined with his sublime courage. He joins 
that perfect Puritan faith which brought his fifth 
ancestor to Plymouth Rock, with his grandfather's 
ardor in the Revolution. He believes in two arti- 
cles — two instruments shall I say ? — the Golden 
Rule and the Declaration of Independence ; and he 
used this expression in conversation here concern- 
ing them, " Better that a whole generation of men, 
women and children should pass away by a violent 
death, than that one word of either should be vio- 
lated in this country." There is a Unionist, — 
there is a strict constructionist for you. He be- 
lieves in the Union of the States, and he conceives 
that the only obstruction to the Union is Slavery, 



RELIEF OF JOHN BROWN'S FAMILY. 253 

and for that reason, as a patriot, he works for its 
abolition. The Governor of Virginia has pro- 
nounced his eulogy in a manner that discredits the 
moderation of our timid parties. His own speeches 
to the court have interested the nation in him. 
What magnanimity, and what innocent pleading, 
as of childhood ! You remember his words : " If I 
had interfered in behalf of the rich, the powerfid, 
the intelligent, the so-called great, or any of their 
friends, parents, wives, or children, it would all have 
been right. But I believe that to have interfered 
as I have done, for the despised poor, was not 
wrong, but right." 

It is easy to see what a favorite he will be with 
history, which plays such pranks with temporary 
reputations. Nothing can resist the sympathy 
which all elevated minds must feel with Brown, 
and through them the whole civilized world ; and 
if he must suffer, he must drag official gentlemen 
into an immortality most undesirable, and of which 
they have already some disagreeable forebodings. 
Indeed, it is the reductio ad ahsurdum of Slavery, 
when the Governor of Virginia is forced to hang a 
man whom he declares to be a man of the most in- 
tegrity, truthfulness and courage he has ever met. 
Is that the kind of man the gallows is built for ? 
It were bold to affirm that there is within that 
broad Commonwealth, at this moment, another citi- 



254 REMARKS AT A MEETING FOR 

zen as worthy to live, and as deserving of all pub- 
lic and private honor, as this poor prisoner. 

But we are here to think of relief for the family 
of John Brown. To my eyes, that family looks 
very large and very needy of relief. It comprises 
his brave fellow-sufferers in the Charlestown Jail ; 
the fugitives still hunted in the mountains of Vir- 
ginia and Pennsylvania ; the sympathizers with him 
in all the States ; and I may say, almost every man 
who loves the Golden Rule and the Declaration of 
Independence, like him, and v/ho sees what a tiger's 
thirst threatens him in the malignity of public sen- 
timent in the Slave States. It seems to me that a 
common feeling joins the people of Massachusetts 
with him. 

I said John Brown was an idealist. He believed 
in his ideas to that extent that he existed to put 
them all into action ; he said, " he did not believe 
in moral suasion, he believed in putting the thing 
through." He saw how deceptive the forms are. 
We fancy, in Massachusetts, that we are free ; yet 
it seems the Government is quite unreliable. Great 
wealth, great population, men of talent in the Ex- 
ecutive, on the Bench, — all the forms right, — and 
yet, life and freedom are not safe. Why? Be- 
cause the judges rely on the forms, and do not, like 
John Brown, use their eyes to see the fact behind 
the forms. They assume that the United States 



RELIEF OF JOHN BROWN'S FAMILY. 255 

can protect its witness or its prisoner. And, in 
Massachusetts, that is true, but the moment he is 
carried out of the bounds of Massachusetts, the 
United States, it is notorious, afford no protection 
at all ; the Government, the judges, are an enven- 
omed party, and give such protection as they give 
in Utah to honest citizens, or in Kansas ; such pro- 
tection as they gave to their own Conunodore Pauld- 
ing, when he was simple enough to mistake the for- 
mal instructions of his Government for their real 
meaning. The state judges fear collision between 
their two allegiances ; but there are worse evils than 
collision ; namely, the doing substantial injustice. 
A good man will see that the use of a judge is to 
secure good government, and where the citizen's 
weal is imperilled by abuse of the Federal power, 
to use that arm which can secure it, viz., the local 
government. Had that been done on certain calam- 
itous occasions, we should not have seen the honor 
of Massachusetts trailed in the dust, stained to all 
ages, once and again, by the ill-timed formalism of 
a venerable bench. If judges cannot find law 
enough to maintain the sovereignty of the state, 
and to protect the life and freedom of every inhabi- 
tant not a criminal, it is idle to compliment them 
as learned and venerable. What avails their learn- 
ing or veneration ? At a pinch, they are no more 
use than idiots. After the mischance they wring 



256 RELIEF OF JOHN BROWN'S FAMILY. 

their hands, but they had better never have been 
born. A Vermont Judge Hutchinson, who has the 
Declaration of Independence in his heart ; a Wis- 
consin judge, who knows that laws are for the pro- 
tection of citizens against kidnappers, is worth a 
court house full of lawyers so idolatrous of forms as 
to let go the substance. Is any man in Massachu- 
setts so simple as to believe that when a United 
States Court in Virginia, now, in its present reign 
of terror, sends to Connecticut, or New York, or 
Massachusetts, for a witness, it wants him for a 
witness ? No ; it wants him for a party ; it wants 
him for meat to slaughter and eat. And your ha- 
heas corp2is is, in any way in which it has been, or, 
I fear, is likely to be used, a nuisance, and not a 
protection ; for it takes away his right reliance on 
himself, and the natural assistance of his friends 
and fellow-citizens, by offering him a form which 
is a piece of paper. 

But I am detaining the meeting on matters which 
others understand better. I hope, then, that in ad- 
ministering relief to John Brown's family, we shall 
remember all those whom his fate concerns, all who 
are in sympathy with him, and not forget to aid 
him in the best way, by securing freedom and inde- 
pendence in Massachusetts, 



JOHN BROWN. 

SPEECH AT SALEM, JANUARY 6, 186a 



JOHN BROWN. 



Mr. Chairman : 

I have been struck with one fact, that the best 
orators who have added their praise to his fame, — 
and I need not go out of this house to find the 
purest eloquence in the country, — have one rival 
who comes off a little better, and that is John 
Brown. Every thing that is said of him leaves 
people a little dissatisfied ; but as soon as they read 
his own speeches and letters they are heartily con- 
tented, — such is the singleness of purpose which 
justifies him to the head and the heart of all. 
Taught by this experience, I mean, in the few re- 
marks I have to make, to cling to his history, or let 
him speak for himself. 

Jolni Brown, the founder of liberty in Kansas, 
was born in Torrington, Litchfield County, Conn., 
in 1800. When he was five years old his father 
emigrated to Ohio, and the boy was there set to 
keep sheep and to look after cattle and dress skins ; 
he went bareheaded and barefooted, and clothed in 
buckskin. He said that he loved rough play, could 
never have rough play enough ; could not see a 



260 JOHN BROWN: 

seedy hat without wishing to pull it off. But for 
this it needed that the playmates should be equal ; 
not one in fine clothes and the other in buckskin ; 
not one his own master, hale and hearty, and the 
other watched and whipped. But it chanced that 
in Pennsylvania, where he was sent by his father to 
collect cattle, he fell in with a boy whom he hear- 
tily liked and whom he looked upon as his superior. 
This boy was a slave ; he saw him beaten with 
an iron shovel, and otherwise maltreated; he saw 
that this boy had nothing better to look forward to 
in life, whilst he himself was petted and made much 
of ; for he was much considered in the family where 
he then stayed, from the circimistance that this boy 
of twelve years had conducted alone a drove of cat- 
tle a hundred miles. But the colored boy had no 
friend, and no future. This worked such indigna- 
tion in him that he swore an oath of resistance to 
Slavery as long as he lived. And thus his enter- 
prise to go into Virginia and run off five hundred 
or a thousand slaves was not a piece of spite or re- 
venge, a plot of two years or of twenty years, but 
the keeping of an oath made to Heaven and earth 
forty-seven years before. Forty-seven years at least, 
though I incline to accept his own account of the 
matter at Charlestown, which makes the date a lit- 
tle older, when he said, " This was all settled mil- 
lions of years before the world was made." 



SPEECH AT SALEM. 261 

He grew up a religious and manly person, in 
severe poverty; a fair specimen of the best stock 
of New England ; having that force of thought and 
that sense of right which are the warp and woof of 
greatness. Our farmers were Orthodox Calvinists, 
mighty in the Scriptures ; had learned that life was 
a preparation, a " probation," to use their word, for 
a higher world, and was to be spent in loving and 
serving mankind. 

Thus was formed a romantic character absolutely 
without any vulgar trait ; living to ideal ends, with- 
out any mixture of self-indulgence or compromise, 
such as lowers the value of benevolent and thought- 
ful men we know ; abstemious, refusing luxuries, 
not sourly and reproachfully but simply as unfit for 
his habit ; quiet and gentle as a child in the house. 
And, as happens usually to men of romantic char- 
acter, his fortunes were romantic. Walter Scott 
would have delighted to draw his picture and trace 
his adventurous career. A shepherd and herds- 
man, he learned the manners of animals, and knew 
the secret signals by which animals communicate. 
He made his hard bed on the mountains with them ; 
he learned to drive his flock through thickets all 
but impassable ; he had all the skill of a shepherd 
by choice of breed and by wise husbandry to ob- 
tain the best wool, and that for a course of years. 
And the anecdotes preserved show a far-seeing skill 



262 JOHN BROWN: 

and conduct whicli, in spite of adverse accidents, 
should secure, one year with another, an honest re- 
ward, first to the farmer, and afterwards to the 
dealer. If he kept sheep, it was with a royal mind ; 
and if he traded in wool, he was a merchant prince, 
not in the amount of wealth, but in the protection 
of the interests confided to him. 

I am not a little surprised at the easy effrontery 
with which political gentlemen, in and out of Con- 
gress, take it upon them to say that there are not a 
thousand men in the North who sympathize with 
John Brown. It would be far safer and nearer the 
truth to say that all people, in proportion to their 
sensibility and self-respect, symjjathize with him. 
For it is impossible to see courage, and disinter- 
estedness, and the love that casts out fear, without 
sympathy. All women are drawn to him by their 
predominance of sentiment. All gentlemen, of 
course, are on his side. I do not mean by " gentle- 
men," people of scented hair and perfumed hand- 
kerchiefs, but men of gentle blood and generosity, 
" fulfilled with all nobleness," who, like the Cid, 
give the outcast leper a share of their bed ; like the 
dying Sidney, pass the cup of cold water to the 
wounded soldier who needs it more. For what is 
the oath of gentle blood and knighthood ? What 
but to protect the weak and lowly against the 
strong oppressor? 



SPEECH AT SALEM. 263 

Nothing is more absurd than to complain of this 
sympathy, or to complain of a party of men united 
in opposition to Slavery. As well complain of 
gravity, or the ebb of the tide. Who makes the 
Abolitionist? The Slaveholder. The sentiment 
of mercy is the natural recoil which the laws of the 
universe provide to protect mankind from destruc- 
tion by savage passions. And our blind statesmen 
go up and down, with committees of vigilance and 
safety, hunting for the origin of this new heresy. 
They will need a very vigilant committee indeed 
to find its birthplace, and a very strong force to 
root it out. For the arch- Abolitionist, older than 
Brown, and older than the Shenandoah Mountains, 
is Love, whose other name is Justice, which was 
before Alfred, before Lycurgus, before Slavery, 
and will be after it. 



THEODORE PARKER. 

AN ADDRESS AT THE MEMORIAL MEETING AT THE MUSIC HALL, 
BOSTON, JUNE 15, 1860. 



THEODORE PAEKER. 



At the death of a good and admirable person, we 
meet to console and animate each other by the rec- 
ollection of his virtues. 

I have the feeling that every man's biography is 
at his own expense. He furnishes not only the 
facts but the report. I mean that all biography is 
autobiography. It is only what he tells of himself 
that comes to be known and believed. In Plu- 
tarch's lives of Alexander and Pericles, you have 
the secret whispers of their confidence to their lov- 
ers and trusty friends. For it was each report of 
this kind that impressed those to whom it was told 
in a manner to secure its being told everywhere to 
the best, to those who speak with authority to their 
own times and therefore to ours. For the political 
rule is a cosmical rule, that if a man is not strong 
in his own district, he is not a good candidate else- 
where. 

He whose voice will not be heard here again, 
could well afford to tell his experiences ; they were 
aU honorable to him, and were part of the history 



268 THEODORE PARKER. 

of the civil and religions liberty of his times. The- 
odore Parker was a son of the soil, charged with - 
the energy of New England, strong, eager, inquisi- 
tive of knowledge, of a diligence that never tired, 
upright, of a haughty independence, yet the gentlest 
of companions ; a man of study, fit for a man of 
the world ; with decided oj)inions and plenty of 
power to state them ; rapidly pushing his studies so 
far as to leave few men qualified to sit as his critics. 
He elected his part of duty, or accepted nobly that 
assigned him in his rare constitution. Wonderfid 
acquisition of knowledge, a rapid wit that heard all, 
and welcomed all that came, by seeing its bearing. 
Such was the largeness of his reception of facts and 
his skill to employ them, that it looked as if he 
were some President of Council to whom a score of 
telegraphs were ever bringing in reports ; and his 
information would have been excessive, but for the 
noble use he made of it ever in the interest of hu- 
manity. He had a strong understanding, a logical 
method, a love for facts, a rapid eye for their his- 
toric relations, and a skill in stripping them of tra- 
ditional lustres. He had a sprightly fancy, and of- 
ten amused himself with throwing his meaning into 
pretty apologues ; yet we can hardly ascribe to his 
mind the poetic element, though his scholarship had 
made him a reader and quoter of verses. A little 
more feeling of the poetic significance of his facts 



THEODORE PARKER. 269 

would iiave disqualified liira for some of his severer 
offices to his generation. The old religions have a 
charm for most minds which it is a little uncanny 
to disturb. 'T is sometimes a question, shall we not 
leave them to decay without rude shocks ? I re- 
member that I found some harshness in his treat- 
ment both of Greek and of Hebrew antiquity, and 
sympathized with the pain of many good people in 
his auditory, whilst I acquitted him, of course, of 
any wish to be flippant. He came at a time when, 
to the irresistible march of opinion, the forms still 
retained by the most advanced sects showed loose 
and lifeless, and he, with something less of affec- 
tionate attachment to the old, or with more vigorous 
logic, rejected them. 'T is objected to him that he 
scattered too many illusions. Perhaps more ten- 
derness would have been graceful ; but it is vain to 
charge him with perverting the opinions of the new 
generation. 

The opinions of men are organic. Simply, those 
came to him who found themselves expressed by 
him. And had they not met this enlightened mind, 
in which they beheld their own opinions combined 
with zeal in every cause of love and humanity, they 
would have suspected their opinions and suppressed 
them, and so sunk into melancholy or malignity — 
a feeling of loneliness and hostility to what was 
reckoned respectable. 'T is plain to me that he has 



270 THEODORE PARKER. 

achieved a liistoric immortality here ; that he has 
so woven himself in these few years into the history 
of Boston, that he can never be left out of your an- 
nals. It will not be in the acts of City Councils, 
nor of obsequious Mayors ; nor, in the State House, 
the proclamations of Governors, with their failing 
virtue — failing them at critical moments — that 
coming generations will study what really befell ; 
but in the plain lessons of Theodore Parker in this 
Music Hall, in Faneuil Hall, or in Legislative Com- 
mittee Rooms, that the true temper and authentic 
record of these days will be read. The next gener- 
ation will care little for the chances of elections 
that govern Governors now, it will care little for 
fine gentlemen who behaved shabbily ; but it will 
read very intelligently in his rough story, fortified 
with exact anecdotes, precise with names and dates, 
what part was taken by each actor ; who threw 
himself into the cause of humanity and came to the 
rescue of civilization at a hard pinch, and who 
blocked its course. 

The vice charged against America is the want 
of sincerity in leading men. It does not lie at his 
door. He never kept back the truth for fear to 
make an enemy. But, on the other hand, it was 
complained that he was bitter and harsh, that his 
zeal burned with too hot a flame. It is so difficult, 
in evil times, to escape this charge ! for the faithful 



THEODORE PARKER. 271 

preacher most of all. It was his merit, like Luther, 
Knox and Latimer, and John Baptist, to speak tart 
truth, when that was peremptory and when there 
were few to say it. But his sympathy for goodness 
was not less energetic. One fault he had, he over- 
estimated his friends, — I may well say it, — and 
sometimes vexed them with the importunity of his 
good opinion, whilst they knew better the ebb which 
foUows unfounded praise. He was capable, it must 
be said, of the most unmeasured eulogies on those 
he esteemed, especially if he had any jealousy that 
they did not stand with the Boston public as highly 
as they ought. His commanding merit as a re- 
former is this, that he insisted beyond all men in 
pulpits, — I cannot think of one rival, — that the 
essence of Christianity is its practical morals ; it is 
there for use, or it is nothing ; and if you combine 
it with sharp trading, or with ordinary city ambi- 
tions to gloze over municipal corruptions, or private 
intemperance, or successful fraud, or immoral poli- 
tics, or unjust wars, or the cheating of Indians, or 
the robbery of frontier nations, or leaving your 
principles at home to follow on the high seas or in 
Europe a supple complaisance to tyrants, — it is a 
hypocrisy, and the truth is not in you ; and no love 
of religious music or of dreams of Swedenborg, or 
praise of John Wesley, or of Jeremy Taylor, can 
save you from the Satan which you are. 



272 THEODORE PARKER. 

His ministry fell on a political crisis also ; on the 
years when Southern slavery broke over its old 
banks, made new and vast pretensions, and wrung 
from the weakness or treachery of Northern peo- 
ple fatal concessions in the Fugitive-Slave Bill and 
the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Two days, 
bitter in the memory of Boston, the days of the ren- 
dition of Sims and of Burns, made the occasion of 
his most remarkable discourses. He kept nothing 
back. In terrible earnest he denounced the public 
crime, and meted out to every official, high and low, 
his due portion. By the incessant power of his 
statement, he made and held a party. It was his 
great service to freedom. He took away the re- 
proach of silent consent that would otherwise have 
lain against the indignant minority, by uttering in 
the hour and place wherein these outrages were 
done, the stern protest. 

But, whilst I praise this frank speaker, I have no 
wish to accuse the silence of others. There are 
men of good powers who have so much sj^mpathy 
that they must be silent when they are not in sym- 
pathy. If you don't agree with them, they know 
they only injure the truth by speaking. Their fac- 
ulties wiU not play them true, and they do not wish 
to squeak and gibber, and so they shut their mouths. 
I can readily forgive this, only not the other, the 
false tongue which makes the worse appear the bet- 



THEODORE PARKER. 273 

ter cause. There were, of course, multitudes to 
censure and defame this truth-speaker. But the 
brave know the brave. Fops, whether in hotels or 
churches, will utter the fop's opinion, and faintly 
hope for the salvation of his soul ; but his manly- 
enemies, who despised the fops, honored him ; and 
it is well known that his great hospitable heart was 
the sanctuary to which every soul conscious of an 
earnest opinion came for sympathy — alike the 
brave slaveholder and the brave slave-rescuer. 
These met in the house of this honest man — for 
every sound heart loves a responsible person, one 
who does not in generous company say generous 
things, and in mean company base things, but says 
one thing — now cheerfully, now indignantly — but 
always because he must, and because he sees that, 
whether he speak or refrain from speech, this is 
said over him ; and history, nature and all souls 
testify to the same. 

Ah, my brave brother ! it seems as if, in a frivo- 
lous age, our loss were immense, and your place 
cannot be supplied. But you will already be con- 
soled in the transfer of your genius, knowing well 
that the nature of the world will affirm to all men, 
in all times, that which for twenty-five years you 
valiantly spoke ; that the winds of Italy murmur the 
same truth over your grave ; the winds of America 
over these bereaved streets ; that the sea which 

VOL. XI. 18 



274 THEODORE PARKER. 

bore your mourners home affirms it, the stars in 
their courses, and the inspirations of youth ; whilst 
the polished and pleasant traitors to human rights, 
with perverted learning and disgraced graces, rot 
and are forgotten with their double tongue saying 
all that is sordid for the corruption of man. 

The sudden and singular eminence of Mr. Parker, 
the importance of his name and influence, are the 
verdict of his countiy to his virtues. We have few 
such men to lose ; amiable and blameless at home, 
feared abroad as the standard-bearer of liberty, tak- 
ing all the duties he could grasp, and more, refus- 
ing to sjDare himself, he has gone down in early 
glory to his grave, to be a living and enlarging 
power, wherever learning, wit, honest valor and 
independence are honored. 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION.i 



Use, labor of each for all, is the health and vir- 
tue of all beings. Ich dien^ I serve, is a truly royal 
motto. And it is the mark of nobleness to volun- 
teer the lowest service, the greatest spirit only at- 
taining to humility. Nay, God is God because he is 
the servant of all. Well, now here comes this con- 
spiracy of slavery, — they call it an institution, I 
call it a destitution, — this stealing of men and set- 
ting them to work, stealing their labor, and the thief 
sitting idle himseK ; and for two or three ages it 
has lasted, and has yielded a certain quantity of rice, 
cotton and sugar. And, standing on this doleful 
experience, these people have endeavored to reverse 
the natural sentiments of mankind, and to pronounce 
labor disgraceful, and the well-being of a man to 
consist in eating the fruit of other men's labor. 

1 Part of a lecture delivered at Washington, Jan. 31, 1862, 
it is said, in the presence of President Lincoln and some of 
his Cabinet, some months before the issuing of the Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation. The rest was published in Society and 
Solitude, under the title " Civilization." 



278 AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

Labor : a man coins himself into his labor ; turns 
his clay, his strength, his thought, his affection into 
some product which remains as the visible sign of 
his power ; and to protect that, to secure that to 
him, to secure his past self to his future self, is the 
object of all government. There is no interest in 
any country so imperative as that of labor ; it cov- 
ers all, and constitutions and governments exist for 
that, — to protect and insure it to the laborer. 
All honest men are daily striving to earn their 
bread by their industry. And who is this who 
tosses his empty head at this blessing in disguise, 
the constitution of human nature, and calls labor 
vile, and insults the faithful workman at his daily 
toil ? I see for such madness no hellebore, — for 
such calamity no solution but servile war and the 
Africanization of the country that permits it. 

At this moment in America the aspects of politi- 
cal society absorb attention. In every house, from 
Canada to the Gulf, the children ask the serious 
father, — " What is the news of the war to-day, 
and when will there be better times ? " The boys 
have no new clothes, no gifts, no journeys ; the 
girls must go without new bonnets ; boys and girls 
find their education, this year, less liberal and com- 
plete. All the little hopes that heretofore made 
the year pleasant are deferred. The state of the 
country fills us with anxiety and stern duties. We 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 279 

have attempted to hold together two states of civi- 
lization : a higher state, where labor and the tenure 
of land and the right of suffrage are democratical ; 
and a lower state, in which the old military tenure 
of prisoners or slaves, and of power and land in a 
few hands, makes an oligarchy : we have attempted 
to hold these two states of society under one law. 
But the rude and early state of society does not 
work well with the later, nay, works badly, and has 
poisoned politics, public morals and social inter- 
course in the Republic, now for many years. 

The times put this question. Why cannot the 
best civilization be extended over the whole country, 
since the disorder of the less-civilized portion men- 
aces the existence of the country ? Is this secular 
progress we have described, this evolution of man 
to the highest powers, only to give him sensibility, 
and not to bring duties with it ? Is he not to make 
his knowledge practical ? to stand and to withstand ? 
Is not civilization heroic also ? Is it not for ac- 
tion ? has it not a will ? " There are periods," 
said Niebulir, " when something much better than 
happiness and security of life is attainable." We 
live in a new and exceptional age. America is 
another word for Opportunity. Our whole history 
appears like a last effort of the Divine Providence 
in behalf of the human race ; and a literal, slavish 
following of precedents, as by a justice of the peace, 



280 AMERICAN CIVILTZATION. 

is not for those who at this hour lead the destinies 
of this people. The evil you contend with has taken 
alarming proportions, and you still content yourself 
with parrying the blows it aims, but, as if enchanted, 
abstain from striking at the cause. 

If the American people hesitate, it is not for 
want of warning or advices. The telegraph has 
been swift enough to announce our disasters. The 
journals have not suppressed the extent of the ca- 
lamity. Neither was there any want of argument 
or of experience. If the war brought any surprise 
to the North, it was not the fault of sentinels on 
the watch-tower, who had furnished full details of 
the designs, the muster and the means of the enemy. 
Neither was anything concealed of the theory or 
practice of slavery. To what purpose make more 
big books of these statistics ? There are already 
mountains of facts, if any one wants them. But 
people do not want them. They bring their opin- 
ion into the world. If they have a comatose ten- 
dency in the brain, they are pro-slavery while they 
live ; if of a nervous sanguineous temperament, 
they are abolitionists. Then interests were never 
persuaded. Can you convince the shoe interest, or 
the iron interest, or the cotton interest, by reading 
passages from Milton or Montesquieu ? You wish 
to satisfy people that slavery is bad economy. 
Why, the " Edinburgh Review " pounded on that 



AMERICAN cmLIZATWN. 281 

string, and made out its case, forty years ago. A 
democratic statesman said to me, long since, that, 
if he owned the State of Kentucky, he would manu- 
mit all the slaves, and be a gainer by the transac- 
tion. Is this new ? No, everybody knows it. As 
a general economy it is admitted. But there is no 
one owner of the state, but a good many small own- 
ers. One man owns land and slaves ; another 
owns slaves only. Here is a woman who has no 
other property, — like a lady in Charleston I knew 
of, who owned fifteen sweeps and rode in her car- 
riage. It is clearly a vast inconvenience to each of 
these to make any change, and they are fretful and 
talkative, and all their friends are ; and those less 
interested are inert, and, from want of thought, 
averse to innovation. It is like free trade, certainly 
the interest of nations, but by no means the inter- 
est of certain towns and districts, which tariff feeds 
fat ; and the eager interest of the few overpowers 
the apathetic general conviction of the many. 
Banknotes rob the public, but are such a daily con- 
venience that we silence our scruples and make be- 
lieve they are gold. So imposts are the cheap and 
right taxation ; but, by the dislike of people to pay 
out a direct tax, governments are forced to render 
life costly by making them pay twice as much, hid- 
den in the price of tea and sugar. 

In this national crisis, it is not argument that we 



282 AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

want, but that rare courage which dares commit it- 
self to a principle, believing that Nature is its ally, 
and will create the instruments it requires, and 
more than make good any petty and injurious pro- 
fit which it may disturb. There never was such a 
combination as this of ours, and the rules to meet 
it are not set down in any history. We want men 
of original perception and original action, who can 
open their eyes wider than to a nationality, namely, 
to considerations of benefit to the human race, can 
act in the interest of civilization. Government 
must not be a parish clerk, a justice of the peace. 
It has, of necessity, in any crisis of the state, the 
absolute powers of a Dictator. The existing Ad- 
ministration is entitled to the utmost candor. It 
is to be thanked for its angelic virtue, compared 
with any executive experiences with which we have 
been familiar. But the times will not allow us to 
indidge in compliment. I wish I saw in the people 
that inspiration which, if Government would not 
obey the same, would leave the Government behind 
and create on the moment the means and executors 
it wanted. Better the war should more danger- 
ously threaten us, — should threaten fracture in 
what is still whole, and punish us with burned cap- 
itals and slaughtered regiments, and so exasperate 
the people to energy, exasperate our nationality. 
There are Scriptures written invisibly on men's 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 283 

hearts, whose letters do not come out until they are 
enraged. They can be read by war-fires, and by 
eyes in the last jseril. 

We cannot but remember that there have been 
days in American history, when, if the Free States 
had done their duty. Slavery had been blocked by 
an immovable barrier, and our recent calamities 
forever precluded. The Free States yielded, and 
every compromise was surrender and invited new 
demands. Here again is a new occasion which 
Heaven offers to sense and virtue. It looks as if 
we held the fate of the fairest possession of man- 
kind in our hands, to be saved by our fii*mness or 
to be lost by hesitation. 

The one power that has legs long enough and 
strong enough to wade across the Potomac offers 
itself at this hour ; the one strong enough to bring 
all the civility up to the height of that which is best, 
prays now at the door of Congress for leave to 
move. Emancipation is the demand of civilization. 
That is a principle ; everything else is an intrigue. 
This is a progressive policy, puts the whole people 
in healthy, productive, amiable position, puts every 
man in the South in just and natural relations with 
every man in the North, laborer with laborer. 

I shall not attempt to unfold the details of the 
project of emancipation. It has been stated with 
gTeat ability by several of its leading advocates. 



28i AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

1 will only advert to some leading points of the ar- 
gument, at the risk of repeating the reasons of 
others. The war is welcome to the Southerner ; a 
chivalrous sport to him, like hunting, and suits his 
semi-civilized condition. On the climbing scale of 
progress, he is just up to war, and has never ap- 
peared to such advantage as in the last twelve- 
month. It does not suit us. We are advanced 
some ages on the war-state, — to trade, art and gen- 
eral cultivation. His laborer works for him at 
home, so that he loses no labor by the war. All 
our soldiers are laborers ; so that the South, with 
its inferior numbers, is almost on a footing in effec- 
tive war-population with the North. Again, as long 
as we fight without any affirmative step taken by 
the Government, any word intimating forfeiture in 
the rebel States of their old privileges under the 
law, they and we fight on the same side, for Slavery. 
Again, if we conquer the enemy, — what then ? 
We shall still have to keep him under, and it will 
cost as much to hold him down as it did to get him 
down. Then comes the summer, and the fever will 
drive the soldiers home ; next winter we must be- 
gin at the beginning, and conquer him over again. 
What use then to take a fort, or a privateer, or get 
possession of an inlet, or to capture a regiment of 
rebels ? 

But one weapon we hold which is sure. Congress 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 285 

can, by edict, as a part of the military defence 
which it is the duty of Congress to provide, abolish 
slavery, and pay for such slaves as we ought to pay 
for. Then the slaves near our armies will come to 
us ; those in the interior will know in a week what 
their rights are, and will, where opportunity offers, 
prepare to take them. Instantly, the armies that 
now confront you must run home to protect their 
estates, and must stay there, and your enemies will 
disappear. 

There can be no safety until this step is taken. 
We fancy that the endless debate, emphasized by 
the crime and by the cannons of this war, has 
brought the Free States to some conviction that it 
can never go well with u^ whilst this mischief of 
slavery remains in our politics, and that by concert 
or by might we must put an end to it. But we have 
too much experience of the futility of an easy reli- 
ance on the momentary good dispositions of the 
public. There does exist, perhaps, a popular will 
that the Union shall not be broken, — that our 
trade, and therefore our laws, must have the whole 
breadth of the continent, and from Canada to the 
Gulf. But, since this is the rooted belief and will 
of the people, so much the more are they in danger, 
when impatient of defeats, or impatient of taxes, to 
go with a rush for some peace ; and what kind of 
peace shall at that moment be easiest attained, they 



286 AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

will make concessions for it, — will give up the 
slaves, and the whole torment of the past half-cen- 
tury will come back to be endured anew. 

Neither do I doubt, if such a composition should 
take place, that the Southerners will come back 
quietly and politely, leaving their haughty dictation. 
It will be an era of good feelings. There will be 
a lull after so loud a storm ; and, no doubt, there 
will be discreet men from that section who will 
earnestly strive to inaugurate more moderate and 
fair administration of the Government, and the 
North will for a time have its full share and more, 
in place and counsel. But this will not last ; — not 
for want of sincere good-will in sensible Southern- 
ers, but because Slavery will again speak through 
them its harsh necessity. It cannot live but by in- 
justice, and it will be unjust and violent to the end 
of the world. 

The power of Emancipation is this, that it alters 
the atomic social constitution of the Southern peo- 
ple. Now, their interest is in keeping out white 
labor ; then, when they must pay wages, their inter- 
est will be to let it in, to get the best labor, and, if 
they fear their blacks, to invite Irish, German and 
American laborers. Thus, whilst Slavery makes 
and keeps disunion, Emancipation removes the 
whole objection to union. Emancipation at one 
stroke elevates the poor white of the South, and 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 287 

identifies his interest witli that of the Northern 
laborer. 

Now, in the name of all that is simple and gener- 
ous, why should not this great right be done ? Why- 
should not America be capable of a second stroke 
for the well-being of the human race, as eighty or 
ninety years ago she was for the first, — of an affirm- 
ative step in the interests of human civility, urged 
on her, too, not by any romance of sentiment, but 
by her own extreme perils ? It is very certain that 
the statesman who shall break through the cobwebs 
of doubt, fear and petty cavil that lie in the way, 
will be greeted by the unanimous thanks of man- 
kind. Men reconcile themselves very fast to a bold 
and good measure when once it is taken, though 
they condemned it in advance. A week before the 
two captive commissioners were surrendered to 
England, every one thought it could not be done : 
it would divide the North. It was done, and in two 
days all agreed it was the right action. And this 
action, which costs so little, (the parties injured by 
it being such a handful that they can very easily 
be indemnified,) rids the world, at one stroke, of 
this degrading nuisance, the cause of war and ruin 
to nations. This measure at once puts all parties 
right. This is borrowing, as I said, the omnipotence 
of a principle. What is so foolish as the terror 
lest the blacks should be made furious by freedom 



288 AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

and wages? It is denying these that is the outrage, 
and makes the danger from the blacks. But justice 
satisfies everybody, — white man, red man, yellow 
man and black man. All like wages, and the ap- 
petite grows by feeding. 

But this measure, to be effectual, must come 
speedily. The weapon is slipping out of our hands. 
" Time," say the Indian Scriptures, " drinketh up 
the essence of every great and noble action which 
ought to be performed, and which is delayed in the 
execution." 

I hope it is not a fatal objection to this policy 
that it is simple and beneficent thoroughly, which 
is the attribute of a moral action. An unprece- 
dented material prosperity has not tended to make 
us Stoics or Christians. But the laws by which the 
universe is organized reappear at every point, and 
will rule it. The end of all political struggle is to 
establish morality as the basis of all legislation. It 
is not free institutions, it is not a rej^ublic, it is not 
a democracy, that is the end, — no, but only the 
means. Morality is the object of government. We 
want a state of things in which crime shall not pay. 
This is the consolation on which we rest in the dark- 
ness of the future and the afflictions of to-day, that 
the government of the world is moral, and does for- 
ever destroy what is not. It is the maxim of nat- 
m-al philosophers that the natural forces wear out 



AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 289 

in time all obstacles, and take place : and it is the 
maxim of history that victory always falls at last 
where it ought to fall ; or, there is perpetual march 
and progress to ideas. But, in either case, no link 
of the chain can drop out. Nature works through 
her appointed elements ; and ideas must work 
through the brains and the arms of good and brave 
men, or they are no better than dreams. 

Since the above pages were written, President 
Lincoln has proposed to Congress that the Govern- 
ment shall co-operate with any State that shall en- 
act a gradual abolishment of Slavery. In the re- 
cent series of national successes, this Message is 
the best. It marks the happiest day in the political 
year. The American Executive ranges itself for 
the first time on the side of freedom. If Congress 
has been backward, the President has advanced. 
This state-paper is the more interesting that it ap- 
pears to be the President's individual act, done un- 
der a strong sense of duty. He speaks his own 
thought in his own style. All thanks and honor to 
the Head of the State ! The Message has been re- 
ceived throughout the country with praise, and, we 
doubt not, with more pleasure than has been spoken. 
If Congress accords with the President, it is not 
yet too late to begin the emancipation ; but we 
think it will always be too late to make it gradual. 

VOL. XI. 19 



200 AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

All experience agrees that it should be immediate. 
More and better than the President has spoken 
shall, perhaps, the effect of this Message be, — but, 
we are sure, not more or better than he hoped in 
his heart, when, thoughtful of all the comj)lexities 
of his position, he penned these cautious words. 



THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 

AN ADDRESS DELIVERED IN BOSTON IN SEPTEMBER, 1862. 



THE EMANCIPATION PEOCLAMATION. 



In so many arid forms which States iucrust 
themselves with, once in a century, if so often, a 
poetic act and record occur. These are the jets of 
thought into affairs, when, roused by danger or 
inspired by genius, the political leaders of the day 
break the else insurmountable routine of class and 
local legislation, and take a step forward in the 
direction of catholic and imiversal interests. Every 
step in the history of political liberty is a sally of 
the human mind into the untried Future, and has 
the interest of genius, and is fruitful in heroic an- 
ecdotes. Liberty is a slow fruit. It comes, like 
religion, for short periods, and in rare conditions, 
as if awaiting a culture of the race which shall 
make it organic and permanent. Such moments 
of expansion in modern history were the Confession 
of Augsburg, the plantation of America, the Eng- 
lish Commonwealth of 1648, the Declaration of 
American Independence in 1776, the British eman- 
cipation of slaves in the West Indies, the passage 
of the Keform BiU, the repeal of the Corn-Laws, 



294 SPEECH ON THE 

the Magnetic Ocean-Telegraph, though yet imper- 
fect, the passage of the Homestead Bill in the last 
Congress, and now, eminently. President Lincoln's 
Proclamation on the twenty-second of September. 
These are acts of great scope, working on a long 
future and on permanent interests, and honoring 
alike those who initiate and those who receive them. 
These measures provoke no noisy joy, but are re- 
ceived into a sympathy so deep as to apprise us 
that mankind are greater and better than we know. 
At such times it appears as if a new public were 
created to greet the new event. It is as when an 
orator, having ended the compliments and pleasant- 
ries with which he conciliated attention, and having 
run over the superficial fitness and commodities of 
the measure he urges, suddenly, lending himself to 
some happy inspiration, announces with vibrating 
voice the grand human principles involved ; — the 
bravos and wits who greeted him loudly thus far 
are surprised and overawed ; a new audience is 
found in the heart of the assembly, — an audience 
hitherto passive and unconcerned, now at last so 
searched and kindled that they come forward, 
every one a representative of mankind, standing 
for all nationalities. 

The extreme moderation vdth which the Presi- 
dent advanced to his design, — his long-avowed ex- 
pectant policy, as if he chose to be strictly the ex- 



EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 295 

ecutive of the best ijublic sentiment of the country, 
waiting only till it should be unmistakably pro- 
nounced, — so fair a mind that none ever listened 
so patiently to such extreme varieties of opinion, — 
so reticent that his decision has taken all parties 
by surprise, whilst yet it is just the sequel of his 
prior acts, — the firm tone in which he announces 
it, without inflation or surplusage, — all these have 
bespoken such favor to the act, that, great as the 
popularity of the President has been, we are be- 
ginning to think that we have underestimated the 
capacity and virtue which the Divine Providence 
has made an instrument of benefit so vast. He 
has been jDermitted to do more for America than 
any other American man. He is well entitled to 
the most indulgent construction. Forget all that 
we thought shortcomings, every mistake, every de- 
lay. In the extreme embarrassments of his part, 
call these endurance, wisdom, magnanimity ; illu- 
minated, as they now are, by this dazzling success. 
When we consider the immense opposition that 
has been neutralized or converted by the progress 
of the war (for it is not long since the President 
anticipated the resignation of a large number of 
officers in the army, and the secession of three 
States, on the promulgation of this policy), — when 
we see how the great stake which foreign nations 
hold in our affairs has recently brought every Euro- 



29G SPEECH ON THE 

pean power as a client into this court, and it be- 
came every clay more apparent what gigantic and 
what remote interests were to be afPected by the 
decision of the President, — one can hardly say the 
deliberation was too long. Against all timorous 
counsels he had the courage to seize the moment ; 
and such was his position, and such the felicity at- 
tending the action, that he has replaced Govern- 
ment in the good graces of mankind. " Better is 
virtue in the sovereign than plenty in the season," 
say the Chinese. 'T is wonderful what power is, 
and how ill it is used, and how its ill use makes 
life mean, and the sunshine dark. Life in America 
had lost much of its attraction in the later years. 
The virtues of a good magistrate undo a world of 
mischief, and, because Nature works with rectitude, 
seem vastly more potent than the acts of bad gov- 
ernors, which are ever tempered by the good-nature 
in the people, and the incessant resistance which 
fraud and violence encounter. The acts of good 
governors work a geometrical ratio, as one midsum- 
mer day seems to repair the damage of a year of 
war. 

A day which most of us dared not hope to see, 
an event worth the dreadful war, worth its costs 
and uncertainties, seems now to be close before us. 
October, November, December will have passed 
over beating hearts and plotting brains : then the 



EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 297 

hour will strike, and all men of African descent 
who have faculty enough to find their way to our 
lines are' assured of the protection of American 
law. 

It is by no means necessary that this measure 
should be suddenly marked by any signal results 
on the negroes or on the Rebel masters. The force 
of the act is that it commits the country to this 
justice, — that it compels the innumerable officers, 
civil, military, naval, of the Republic to range 
themselves on the line of this equity. It draws the 
fashion to this side. It is not a measure that ad- 
mits of being taken back. Done, it cannot be un- 
done by a new Administration. For slavery over- 
powers the disgust of the moral sentiment only 
through immemorial usage. It cannot be intro- 
duced as an improvement of the nineteenth century. 
This act makes that the lives of our heroes have 
not been sacrificed in vain. It makes a victory of 
our defeats. Our hurts are healed ; the health of 
the nation is repaired. With a victory like this, 
we can stand many disasters. It does not promise 
the redemption of the black race ; that lies not with 
us : but it relieves it of our opposition. The Presi- 
dent by this act has paroled all the slaves in Amer- 
ica ; they will no more fight against us \ and it re- 
lieves our race once for all of its crime and false 
position. The first condition of success is secured 



298 SPEECH ON THE 

in putting ourselves right. We have recovered 
ourselves from our false position, and planted our- 
selves on a law of Nature : 

« If that faU, 
The pillared firmament is rottemiess, 
And earth's base built on stubble." 

The Government has assured itself of the best con- 
stituency in the world : every spark of intellect, 
every virtuous feeling, every religious heart, every 
man of honor, every poet, every philosopher, the 
generosity of the cities, the health of the country, 
the strong arms of the mechanic, the endurance of 
farmers, the passionate conscience of women, the 
sympathy of distant nations, — all rally to its sup- 
port. 

Of course, we are assuming the firmness of the 
policy thus declared. It must not be a paper proc- 
lamation. We confide that Mr. Lincoln is in ear- 
nest, and, as he has been slow in making up his 
mind, has resisted the importunacy of parties and 
of events to the latest moment, he will be as abso- 
lute in his adhesion. Not only will he repeat and 
follow up his stroke, but the nation will add its ir- 
resistible strength. If the ruler has duties, so has 
the citizen. In times like these, when the nation is 
imperilled, what man can, without shame, receive 
good news from day to day without giving good 
news of himself ? What right has any one to read 



EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 299 

in the journals tidings of victories, if lie has not 
bought them by his own valor, treasure, personal 
sacrifice, or by service as good in his own depart- 
ment? With this blot removed from our national 
honor, this heavy load lifted off the national heart, 
we shall not fear henceforward to show our faces 
among manliind. We shall cease to be hypocrites 
and pretenders, but what we have styled our free 
institutions will be such. 

In the light of this event the public distress be- 
gins to be removed. What if the brokers' quota- 
tions show our stocks discredited, and the gold dol- 
lar costs one hundred and twenty-seven cents ? 
These tables are fallacious. Every acre in the 
Free States gained substantial value on the twenty- 
second of September. The cause of disunion and 
war has been reached and bes^un to be removed. 
Every man's house-lot and garden are relieved of 
the malaria which the purest winds and strongest 
sunshine could not penetrate and purge. The ter- 
ritory of the Union shines to-day with a lustre 
which every European emigrant can discern from 
far ; a sign of inmost security and permanence. Is 
it feared that taxes will check immigration ? That 
depends on what the taxes are spent for. If they 
go to fill ujj this yawning Dismal Swamp, which en- 
gulfed armies and populations, and created plague, 
and neutralized hitherto all the. vast capabilities of 



300 SPEECH ON THE 

this continent, — then this taxation, which makes 
the land wholesome and habitable, and will draw all 
men unto it, is the best investment in which prop- 
erty-holder ever lodged his earnings. 

Whilst we have pointed out the opportuneness of 
the Proclamation, it remains to be said that the 
President had no choice. lie might look wistfidly 
for what variety of courses lay open to him ; every 
line but one was closed up with fire. This one, too, 
bristled with danger, but through it was the sole 
safety. The measure he has adopted was impera- 
tive. It is wonderful to see the unseasonable senil- 
ity of what is called the Peace Party, through all its 
masks, blinding their eyes to the main feature of 
the war, namely, its inevitableness. The war ex- 
isted long before the cannonade of Sumter, and 
could not be postponed. It might have begun other- 
wise or elsewhere, but war was in the minds and 
bones of the combatants, it was written on the iron 
leaf, and you might as easily dodge gravitation. If 
we had consented to a peaceable secession of the 
Rebels, the divided sentiment of the Border States 
made peaceable secession impossible, the insatiable 
temper of the South made it impossible, and the 
slaves on the border, wherever the border might be, 
were an incessant fuel to rekindle the fire. Give 
the Confederacy New Orleans, Charleston, and Rich- 
mond, and they would have demanded St. Louis 



EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 301 

and Baltimore. Give them these, and they would 
have insisted on Washington. Give them Wash- 
ington, and they would have assumed the army and 
navy, and, through these, Philadelphia, New York, 
and Boston. It looks as if the battle-field would 
have been at least as large in that event as it is 
now. The war was formidable, but could not be 
avoided. The war was and is an immense mischief, 
but brought with it the immense benefit of drawing 
a line and rallying the Free States to fix it impas- 
sably, — preventing the whole force of Southern 
connection and influence throughout the North from 
distracting every city with endless confusion, de- 
taching that force and reducing it to handfuls, and, 
in the progress of hostilities, disinfecting us of our 
habitual proclivity, through the affection of trade 
and the traditions of the Democratic party, to follow 
Southern leading. 

These necessities which have dictated the conduct 
of the Federal Government are overlooked especial- 
ly by our foreign critics. The popular statement 
of the opponents of the war abroad is the impossi- 
bility of our success. " If you could add," say they, 
" to your strength the whole army of England, of 
France and of Austria, you could not coerce eight 
millions of people to come under this Government 
against their will." This is an odd thing for an 
Englishman, a Frenchman, or an Austrian to say, 



302 SPEECH ON THE 

who remembers Europe of the last seventy years, 
— the condition of Italy, until 1859, — of Poland, 
since 1793, — of France, of French Algiers, — of 
British Ireland, and British India. But, granting 
the truth, rightly read, of the historical aphorism, 
that "the people always conquer," it is to be noted 
that, in the Southern States, the tenure of land 
and the local laws, with slaveiy, give the social sys- 
tem not a democratic but an aristocratic complex- 
ion ; and those States have shown every year a more 
hostile and aggressive temper, until the instinct of 
self-preservation forced us into the war. And the 
aim of the war on our part is indicated by the aim 
of the President's Proclamation, namely, to break 
up the false combination of Southern society, to 
destroy the piratic feature in it which makes it our 
enemy only as it is the enemy of the human race, 
and so allow its reconstruction on a just and health- 
ful basis. Then new affinities will act, the old re- 
pulsion will cease, and, the cause of war being re- 
moved, Nature and trade may be trusted to establish 
a lasting peace. 

We think we cannot overstate the wisdom and 
benefit of this act of the Government. The malig- 
nant cry of the Secession press within the Free 
States, and the recent action of the Confederate 
Congress, are decisive as to its efficiency and cor- 
rectness of aim. Not less so is the silent joy which 



EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 303 

has greeted it in all generous hearts, and the new 
hope it has breathed into the world. It was well 
to delay the steamers at the wharves until this edict 
coidd be put on board. It will be an insurance to 
the ship as it goes plunging through the sea with 
glad tidings to all people. Happy are the young, 
who find the pestilence cleansed out of the earth, 
leaving open to them an honest career. Happy the 
old, who see Nature purified before they depart. 
Do not let the dying die : hold them back to this 
world, until you have charged their ear and heart 
with this message to other spiritual societies, an- 
nouncing the melioration of our planet : 

" Incertainties now crowu themselves assured, 
And Peace proclaims olives of endless age." 

Meantime that ill-fated, much-injured race which 
the Proclamation respects will lose somewhat of the 
dejection sculptured for ages in their bronzed coun- 
tenance, uttered in the wailing of their plaintive 
music, — a race naturally benevolent, docile, indus- 
trious, and whose very miseries sprang from their 
great talent for usefulness, which, in a more moral 
age, will not only defend their independence, but 
will give them a rank among nations. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

REMARKS AT THE FUNERAL SERVICES HELD IN CONCORD, 
APRIL 19, 1865. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



We meet under the gloom of a calamity which 
darkens down over the minds of good men in all 
civil society, as the fearful tidings travel over sea, 
over land, from country to country, like the shadow 
of an uncalculated eclipse over the planet. Old as 
history is, and manifold as are its tragedies, I doubt 
if any death has caused so much pain to mankind 
as this has caused, or will cause, on its announce- 
ment ; and this, not so much because nations are 
by modern arts brought so closely together, as be- 
cause of the mysterious hopes and fears which, in 
the present day, are connected with the name and 
institutions of America. 

In this country, on Saturday, every one was 
struck dumb, and saw at first only deep below deep, 
as he meditated on the ghastly blow. And perhaps, 
at this hour, when the coffin which contains the 
dust of the President sets forward on its long march 
through mourning States, on its way to his home in 
Illinois, we might well be silent, and suffer the aw- 
ful voices of the time to thunder to us. Yes, but 



308 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

that first despair was brief : the man was not so to 
be mourned. He was the most active and hopefid. 
of men ; and his work had not perished : but accla- 
mations of praise for the task he had accomplished 
burst out into a song of triumph, wliich even tears 
for his death cannot keep down. 

The President stood before us as a man of the 
people. He was thoroughly American, had never 
crossed the sea, had never been spoiled by English 
insularity or French dissipation ; a quite native, 
aboriginal man, as an acorn from the oak ; no ap- 
ing of foreigners, no frivolous accomplishments, 
Kentuckian born, working on a farm, a flatboat- 
man, a captain in the Black Hawk war, a country 
lawyer, a representative in the rural Legislature of 
Illinois ; — on such modest foundations the broad 
structure of his fame was laid. How slowly, and 
yet by happily prepared steps, he came to his place. 
All of us remember, — it is only a history of five 
or six years, — the surprise and the disappointment 
of the country at his first nomination by the Con- 
vention at Chicago. Mr. Seward, then in the cul- 
mination of his good fame, was the favorite of the 
Eastern States. And when the new and compara- 
tively unknown name of Lincoln was announced, 
(notwithstanding the report of the acclamations of 
that Convention,) we heard the result coldly and 
sadly. It seemed too rash, on a purely local repu- 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 309 

tation, to build so gi-ave a trust in such anxious 
times ; and men natui^ally talked of tlie chances in 
politics as incalculable. But it turned out not to 
be chance. The profound good opinion which the 
people of Illinois and of the West had conceived of 
him, and which they had imparted to their col- 
leagues that they also might justify themselves to 
their constituents at home, was not rash, though 
they did not begin to know the riches of his worth. 
A plain man of the people, an extraordinary for- 
tune attended him. lie offered no shining qualities 
at the first encounter ; he did not offend by superior- 
ity. He had a face and manner which disarmed 
suspicion, which inspired confidence, which con- 
firmed good-will. He was a man without vices. He 
had a strong sense of duty, which it was very easy 
for him to obey. Then, he had what farmers call 
a long head ; was excellent in working out the sum 
for himself ; in arguing his case and convincing you 
fairly and firmly. Then, it turned, out that he was 
a great worker ; had prodigious faculty of perform- 
ance ; worked easily. A good worker is so rare ; 
everybody has some disabling quality. In a host 
of young men that start together and promise so 
many brilliant leaders for the next age, each fails 
on trial ; one by bad health, one by conceit, or by 
love of pleasure, or lethargy, or an ugly temper, — 
each has some disqualifying fault that throws him 



310 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

out of the career. But this man was sound to the 
core, cheerful, persistent, all right for labor, and 
liked nothing so well. 

Then, he had a vast good-nature, which made him 
tolerant and accessible to all ; fair-minded, leaning 
to the claim of the petitioner ; affable, and not sen- 
sible to the affliction which the innumerable visits 
paid to him when President would have brought 
to any one else. And how this good-nature became 
a noble humanity, in many a tragic case which the 
events of the war brought to him, every one will re- 
member ; and with what increasing tenderness he 
dealt when a whole race was thrown on his compas- 
sion. The poor negro said of him, on an impres- 
sive occasion, " Massa Linkum am eberywhere." 

. Then his broad good-humor, running easily into 
jocular talk, in which he delighted and in which he 
excelled, was a rich gift to this wise man. It en- 
abled him to keep his secret ; to meet every kind of 
man and every rank in society ; to take off the edge 
of the severest decisions ; to mask his OT;\ai purpose 
and sound his companion ; and to catch w4th true 
instinct the temper of every company he addressed. 
And, more than all, it is to a man of severe labor, 
in anxious and exhausting crises, the natural restor- 
ative, good as sleep, and is the protection of the 
overdriven brain against rancor and insanitj". 
He is the author of a multitude of good sayings, 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 311 

SO disguised as pleasantries that it is •certain they 
had no reputation at first but as jests ; and only- 
later, by the very acceptance and adoption they find 
in the mouths of millions, turn out to be the wisdom 
of the hour. I am sure if this man had ruled in a 
period of less facility of printing, he would have 
become mythological in a very few years, like ^sop 
or Pilpay, or one of the Seven Wise Masters, by 
his fables and proverbs. But the weight and pene- 
tration of many passages in his letters, messages 
and speeches, hidden now by the very closeness of 
1 their application to the moment, are destined here- 
1 after to wide fame. What pregnant definitions ; 
what unerring common sense ; what foresight ; and, 
on great occasion, what lofty, and more than na- 
tional, what humane tone ! His brief speech at 
Gettysburg will not easily be surpassed by words 
on any recorded occasion. This, and one other 
American speech, that of John Brown to the court 
that tried him, and a part of Kossuth's speech at 
Birmingham, can only be compared with each 
other, and with no fourth. 

His occupying the chair of State was a triumph 
of the good-sense of mankind, and of the public 
conscience. This middle-class country had got a 
middle-class President, at last. Yes, in manners 
and sympathies, but not in powers, for his powers 
were superior. This man grew according to the 



312 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

need. His mind mastered the problem of tKe day ; 
and, as the problem grew, • so did his comprehen- 
sion of it. Rarely was man so fitted to the event. 
In the midst of fears and jealousies, in the Babel 
of counsels and parties, this man wrought inces- 
santly with all his might and all his honesty, labor- 
ing to find what the people wanted, and how to 
obtain that. It cannot be said there is any exag- 
geration of his worth. If ever a man was fairly 
tested, he was. There was no lack of resistance, 
nor of slander, nor of ridicule. The times have al- 
lowed no state secrets ; the nation has been in such 
ferment, such multitudes had to be trusted, that no 
secret could be kept. Every door was ajar, and we 
know aU that befell. 

Then, what an occasion was the whirlwind of the 
war. Here was place for no holiday magistrate, 
no fair-weather sailor ; the new pilot was hurried 
to the helm in a tornado. In four years, — four 
years of battle-days, — his endurance, his fertility 
of resources, his magnanimity, were sorely tried 
and never found wanting. There, by his courage, 
his justice, his even temper, his fertile counsel, his 
humanity, he stood a heroic figure in the centre of 
a heroic epoch. He is the true history of the 
American people in his time. Step by step he 
walked before them ; slow with their slowness, 
quickening his march by theirs, the true represen- 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 313 

tative of this continent ; an entirely public man ; 
father of his country, the pulse of twenty millions 
throbbing in his heart, the thought of their minds 
articulated by his tongue. 

Adam Smith remarks that the axe, which in 
Houbraken's portraits of British kings and wor- 
thies is engraved under those who have suffered at 
the block, adds a certain lofty charm to the picture. 
And who does not see, even in this tragedy so re- 
cent, how fast the terror and ruin of the massacre 
are already burning into glory around the victim ? 
Far happier this fate than to have lived to be 
wished away ; to have watched the decay of his 
own faculties ; to have seen, — perhaps even he, 
— the proverbial ingratitude of statesmen ; to have 
seen mean men preferred. Had he not lived long 
enough to keep the greatest promise that ever man 
made to his fellow-men, — the practical abolition 
of slavery? He had seen Tennessee, Missouri and 
Maryland emancipate their slaves. He had seen 
Savannah, Charleston and Richmond surrendered ; 
had seen the main army of the rebellion lay down 
its arms. He had conquered the public opinion of 
Canada, England and France. Only Washington 
can compare with him in fortune. 

And what if it should turn out, in the unfolding 
of the web, that he had reached the term ; that 
this heroic deliverer could no longer serve us ; that 



314 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

the rebellion had touched its natural conclusion, 
and what remained to be done required new and 
uncommitted hands, — a new spirit born out of the 
ashes of the war; and that Heaven, wishing to 
show the world a completed benefactor, shall make 
him serve his country even more by his death than 
by his life ? Nations, like kings, are not good by 
facility and complaisance. " The kindness of kings 
consists in justice and strength." Easy good-na- 
ture has been the dangerous foible of the Republic, 
and it was necessary that its enemies should out- 
rage it, and drive us to unwonted firmness, to se- 
cui'e the salvation of this country in the next ages. 
The ancients believed in a serene and beautiful 
Genius which ruled in the affairs of nations ; which, 
with a slow but stern justice, carried forward the 
fortunes of certain chosen houses, weeding out sin- 
gle offenders or offending families, and securing 
at last the firm prosperity of the favorites of 
Heaven. It was too narrow a view of the Eternal 
Nemesis. There is a serene Providence which rules 
the fate of nations, which makes little account of 
time, little of one generation or race, makes no ac- 
count of disasters, conquers alike by what is called 
defeat or by what is called victory, thrusts aside en- 
emy and obstruction, crushes everything immoral as 
inhuman, and obtains the ultimate triumph of the 
best race by the sacrifice of everything which resists 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 315 

the moral laws of the world. It makes its own in- 
struments, creates the man for the time, trains him 
in poverty, inspires his genius, and arms him for 
his task. It has given every race its own talent, 
and ordains that only that race which combines 
perfectly with the virtues of all shall endure. 



HARVARD COMMEMORATION SPEECH. 

JULY 21, 1865. 



HARVAED COMMEMORATION SPEECH. 
July 21, 1865. 



Mk. Chairman and Gentlemen : 

With whatever opinion we come here, I think it 
is not in man to see, without a feeling of pride and 
pleasure, a tried soldier, the armed defender of the 
right. I think that in these last years all opinions 
have been affected by the magnificent and stupen- 
dous spectacle which Divine Providence has offered 
us of the energies that slept in the children of this 
country, — that slept and have awakened. I see 
thankfully those that are here, but dim eyes in 
vain explore for some who are not. 

The old Greek Heraclitus said, " War is the 
Father of all things." He said it, no doubt, as sci- 
ence, but we of this day can repeat it as political 
and social truth. War passes the power of all 
chemical solvents, breaking up the old adhesions 
and allowing the atoms of society to take a new 
order. It is not the Government, but the War, 
that has appointed the good generals, sifted out 
the pedants, put in the new and vigorous blood. 



820 SPEECH AT THE 

The War lias lifted many other people besides 
Grant and Sherman into their true places. Even 
Divine Providence, we may say, always seems to 
work after a certain military necessity. Every na- 
tion punishes the General who is not victorious. It 
is a rule in games of chance that the cards beat all 
the players, and revolutions disconcert and outwit 
all the insurgents. 

The revolutions carry their own points, some- 
times to the ruin of those who set them on foot. 
The proof that war also is within the highest right, 
is a marked benefactor in the hands of Divine 
Providence, is its morale. The war gave back in- 
tegrity to this erring and immoral nation. It 
charged with power, peaceful, amiable men, to 
whose life war and discord were abhorrent. What 
an infusion of character went out from this and 
other colleges ! What an infusion of character 
down to the ranks ! The experience has been uni- 
form that it is the gentle soul that makes the firm 
hero after all. It is easy to recall the mood in 
which our young men, snatched from every peace- 
ful pursuit, went to the war. Many of them had 
never handled a gun. They said, " It is not in me 
to resist. I go because I must. It is a duty which 
I shall never forgive myself if I decline. I do not 
know that I can make a soldier. I may be very 
clumsy. Perhaps I shall be timid ; but you can 



HARVARD COMMEMORATION. 321 

rely on me. Only one tiling is certain, I can well 
die, but I cannot afford to misbehave." 

In fact the infusion of culture and tender hu- 
manity from these scholars and idealists who went 
to the war in their own despite, — God knows they 
had no fury for killing their old friends and coun- 
trymen, — had its signal and lasting effect. It was 
found that enthusiasm was a more potent ally than 
science and munitions of war without it. " It is a 
principle of war," said Najioleon, " that when you 
can use the thunderbolt you must prefer it to the 
cannon." Enthusiasm was the thunderbolt. Here 
in this little Massachusetts, in smallet Rhode Is- 
land, in this little nest of New England republics 
it flamed out when the guilty gun was aimed at 
Sumter. 

Mr. Chairman, standing here in Harvard Col- 
lege, the parent of all the colleges ; in Massachu- 
setts, the parent of all the North ; when I consider 
her influence on the country as a principal planter 
of the Western States, and now, by her teachers, 
preachers, journalists and books, as well as by traf- 
fic and production, the diffuser of religious, liter- 
ary and political opinion ; — and when I see how 
irresistible the convictions of Massachusetts are in 
these swarming populations, — I think the little 
state bigger than I knew. When her blood is up 
shp has a fist big enough to knock down an empire. 
Vol. XI. 21 



322 HARVARD COMMEMORATION SPEECH. 

And her blood was roused. Scholars changed the 
black coat for the blue. A single company in the 
forty-fourth Massachusetts regiment contained thir- 
ty-five sons of Harvard. You all know as well as 
I the story of these dedicated men, who knew well 
on what duty they went, — whose fathers and moth- 
ers said of each slaughtered son, " We gave him 
up when he enlisted." One mother said, when her 
son was offered the command of the first negro regi- 
ment, " If he accepts it, I shall be as proud as if I 
had heard that he was shot." These men, thus ten- 
der, thus high-bred, thus peaceable, were always 
in the front and always employed. They might 
say, with their forefathers the old Norse Vikings, 
" We sung the mass of lances from morning until 
evening." And in how many cases it chanced, 
when the hero had fallen, they who came by night 
to his funeral on the morrow returned to the war- 
path to show his slayers the way to death ! 

Ah ! young brothers, all honor and gratitude to 
you, — you, manly defenders, Liberty's and Human- 
ity's body-guard ! We shall not again disparage 
America, now that we have seen what men it will 
bear. We see — we thank you for it — a new era, 
worth to mankind all the treasure and all the lives 
it has cost ; yes, worth to the world the lives of all 
this generation of American men, if they had been 
demanded. 



EDITORS' ADDRESS. 

MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY REVIEW, DECEMBER, 1847. 



EDITORS' ADDRESS. 



The American people are fast opening their own 
destiny. The material basis is of such extent that 
no folly of man can quite subvert it ; for the terri- 
tory is a considerable fraction of the planet, and the 
population neither loath nor inexpert to use their 
advantages. Add, that this energetic race derive 
an unprecedented material power from the new 
arts, from the expansions effected by public schools, 
cheap postage and a cheap press, from the telescope, 
the telegraph, the railroad, steamship, steam-ferry, 
steam -mill ; from domestic architecture, chemical 
agriculture, from ventilation, from ice, ether, caout- 
chouc, and innumerable inventions and manufac- 
tures. 

A scholar who has been reading of the fabulous 
magnificence of Assyria and Persia, of Rome and 
Constantinople, leaves his library and takes his 
seat in a railroad-car, where he is importuned by 
newsboys with journals still wet from Liverpool 
and Havre, with telegraphic despatches not yet fifty 
minutes old from Buffalo and Cincinnati. At the 



326 EDITORS' ADDRESS. 

screams of the steam-wliistle, the train quits city 
and suburbs, darts away into the interior, drops 
every man at his estate as it whirls along, and 
shows our traveller what tens of thousands of pow- 
erful and weaponed men, science-armed and society- 
armed, sit at large in this ample region, obscure 
from their numbers and the extent of the domain. 
He reflects on the power which each of these plain 
rej)ublicans can employ ; how far these chains of 
intercourse and travel reach, interlock, and ramify ; 
what levers, what pumps, what exhaustive analyses 
are applied to nature for the benefit of masses of 
men. Then he exclaims, What a negro-fine royalty 
is that of Jamschid and Solomon ! What a sub- 
stantial sovereignty does my townsman possess ! A 
man who has a hundred dollars to dispose of, — a 
hundred dollars over his bread, — is rich beyond 
the dreams of the Caesars. 

Keep our eyes as long as we can on this pic- 
ture, we cannot stave off the ulterior question, — 
the famous question of Cineas to Pyrrhus, — the 
WHERE TO of all this power and population, these 
surveys and inventions, this taxing and tabulating, 
mill-privilege, roads, and mines. The aspect this 
country presents is a certain maniacal activity, an 
immense apparatus of cunning machinery which 
turns out, at last, some Nuremberg toys. Has it 
generated, as great interests do, any intellectual 



MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY REVIEW. 327 

power ? IWiere are the works of the imagination — 
the surest test of a national genius ? At least as 
far as the purpose and genius of America is yet re- 
ported in any book, it is a sterility and no genius. 

One would say there is nothing colossal in the 
country but its geography and its material activi- 
ties ; that the moral and intellectual effects are not 
on the same scale with the trade and production. 
There is no speech heard but that of auctioneers, 
newsboys, and the caucus. Where is the great 
breath of the New World, the voice of aboriginal 
nations opening new eras with hymns of lofty cheer ? 
Our books and fine arts are imitations ; there is a 
fatal incuriosity and disinclination in our educated 
men to new studies and the interrogation of nature. 
We have taste, critical talent, good professors, 
good commentators, but a lack of male energy. 
What more serious calamity can befall a people 
than a constitutional dulness and limitation ? The 
moral influence of the intellect is wanting. We 
hearken in vain for any profound voice speaking to 
the American heart, cheering timid good men, ani- 
mating the youth, consoling the defeated, and in- 
telligently announcing duties which clothe life with 
joy, and endear the face of land and sea to men. 
It is a poor consideration that the country wit is 
precocious, and, as we say, practical ; that political 
interests on so broad a scale as ours are adminis- 



328 EDITORS' ADDRESS 

tered by little men with some saucy village talent, 
by deft partisans, good cipherers ; strict economists, 
quite empty of all superstition. 

Conceding these unfavorable appearances, it 
would yet be a poor pedantry to read the fates of 
this country from these narrow data. On the con- 
trary, we are persuaded that moral and material 
values are always commensurate. Every material 
organization exists to a moral end, which makes the 
reason of its existence. Here are no books, but 
who can see the continent with its inland and sur- 
rounding waters, its temperate climates, its west- 
wind breathing vigor through all the year, its con- 
fluence of races so favorable to the highest energy, 
and the infinite glut of their production, without 
putting new queries to Destiny as to the purpose 
for which this muster of nations and this sudden 
creation of enormous values is made ? 

This is equally the view of science and of patri- 
otism. We hesitate to employ a word so much 
abused as patriotism, whose true sense is almost 
the reverse of its jaopular sense. We have no sym- 
pathy with that boyish egotism, hoarse with cheering 
for one side, for one state, for one town : the right 
patriotism consists in the delight which springs 
from contributing our peculiar and legitimate ad- 
vantages to the benefit of humanity. Every foot 
of soil has its proper quality ; the grape on two 



MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY RE\TEW. 329 

sides of the same fence has new flavors; and so 
every acre on the globe, every family of men, every 
point of climate, has its distinguishing virtues. 
Certainly then this country does not lie here in 
the sun causeless ; and though it may not be easy 
to define its influence, men feel already its eman- 
cipating quality in the careless self-reliance of the 
manners, in the freedom of thought, in the direct 
roads by which grievances are reached and re- 
dressed, and even in the reckless and sinister poli- 
tics, not less than in purer expressions. Bad as it 
is, this freedom leads onward and upward, — to a 
Columbia of thought and art, which is the last and 
endless end of Columbus's adventure. 

Lovers of our country, but not always approvers 
of the public counsels, we should certainly be glad 
to give good advice in politics. We have not been 
able to escape our national and endemic habit, and 
to be liberated from interest in the elections and in 
public affairs. Nor have we cared to disfranchise 
ourselves. We are more solicitous than others to 
make our politics clear and healthful, as we believe 
politics to be nowise accidental or exceptional, but 
subject to the same laws with trees, earths, and 
acids. We see that reckless and destructive fury 
which characterizes the lower classes of American 
society, and which is pampered by hundreds of prof- 
ligate presses. The young intriguers who drive in 



330 EDITORS' ADDRESS. 

bar-rooms and town-meetings the trade of politics, 
sagacious only to seize the victorious side, have put 
the country into the position of an overgTOwn bully, 
and Massachusetts finds no heart or head to give 
weight and efficacy to her contrary judgment. In 
hours when it seemed only to need one just word 
from a man of honor to have vindicated the rights 
of millions, and to have given a true direction to 
the first steps of a nation, we have seen the best 
understandings of New England, the trusted lead- 
ers of her coimsels, constituting a snivelling and de- 
spised opposition, clapped on the back by comfort- 
able capitalists from all sections, and persuaded to 
say. We are too old to stand for what is called a 
New England sentiment any longer. Rely on us 
for commercial representatives, but for questions of 
ethics, — who knows what markets may be opened ? 
We are not well, we are not in our seats, when jus- 
tice and humanity are to be spoken for. 

We have a bad war, many victories, each of 
which converts the country into an immense chan- 
ticleer ; and a very insincere political opposition. 
The country needs to be extricated from its delir- 
ium at once. Public affairs are chained in the 
same law with private ; the retributions of armed 
states are not less sure and signal than those which 
come to private felons. The facility of majorities 
is no protection from the natural sequence of their 



MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY REVIEW. 331 

own acts. Men reason badly, but nature and des- 
tiny are logical. 

But, whilst we should think our pains well be- 
stowed if we could cure the infatuation of states- 
men, and should be sincerely pleased if we could 
give a direction to the Federal politics, we are far 
from believing politics the primal interest of men., 
On the contrary, we hold that the laws and govern- 
ors cannot possess a commanding interest for any 
but vacant or fanatical people ; for the reason that 
this is simply a formal and superficial interest ; and 
men of a solid genius are only interested in substan- 
tial things. 

The State, like the individual, should rest on an 
ideal basis. Not only man but nature is injured by 
the imputation that man exists only to be fattened 
with bread, but he lives in such connection with 
Thought and Fact that his bread is surely involved 
as one element thereof, but is not its end and aim. 
So the insight which commands the laws and con- 
ditions of the true polity precludes forever all in- 
terest in the squabbles of parties. As soon as men 
have tasted the enjoyment of learning, friendship 
and virtue, for which the State exists, the prizes of 
office appear polluted, and their followers outcasts. 

A journal that would meet the real wants of this 
time must have a courage and power sufficient to 
solve the problems which the great groping society 



332 EDITORS' ADDRESS. 

around us, stupid with perplexity, is dumbly explor- 
ing. Let it not show its astuteness by dodging 
each difficult question and arguing diffusely every 
point on which men are long ago unanimous. Can 
it front this matter of Socialism, to which the 
names of Owen and Fourier have attached, and 
dispose of that question ? Will it cope with the 
allied questions of Government, Nonresistance, 
and all that belongs under that category ? Will it 
measure itself with the chapter on Slavery, in some 
sort the special enigma of the time, as it has pro- 
voked against it a sort of inspiration and enthusiasm 
singular in modern history? There are literary 
and philosophical reputations to settle. The name 
of Swedenborg has in this very time acqiiired new 
honors, and the current year has witnessed the ap- 
pearance, in their first English translation, of his 
manuscripts. Here is an unsettled account in the 
book of Fame ; a nebula to dim eyes, but which 
great telescopes may yet resolve into a magnificent 
system. Here is the standing problem of Natural 
Science, and the merits of her great interpreters 
to be determined ; the encyclopaedical Humboldt, 
and the intrepid generalizations collected by the 
author of the " Vestiges of Creation." Here is the 
balance to be adjusted between the exact French 
school of Cuvier, and the genial catholic theorists, 
Geoffroy St. Hilaire, Goethe, Davy, and Agassiz. 



MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY REVIEW. 333 

Will it venture into the thin and difficult air of 
that school where the secrets of structure are dis- 
cussed under the topics of mesmerism and the twi- 
lights of demonology ? 

What will easily seem to many a far higher ques- 
tion than any other is that which respects the em- 
bodying of the Conscience of the period. Is the 
age we live in unfriendly to the highest powers ; to 
that blending of the affections with the poetic fac- 
ulty which has distinguished the Religious Ages? 
We have a better opinion of the economy of nature 
than to fear that those varying phases which hu- 
manity presents, ever leave out any of the grand 
springs of human action. Mankind for the mo- 
ment seem to be in search of a religion. The Jew- 
ish cultus is declining ; the Divine, or, as some will 
say, the truly Human, hovers, now seen, now un- 
seen, before us. This period of peace, this hour 
when the jangle of contending churches is hushing 
or hushed, will seem only the more propitious to 
those who believe that man need not fear the want 
of religion, because they know his religious consti- 
tution, — that he must rest on the moral and reli- 
gious sentiments, as the motion of bodies rests 
on geometry. In the rapid decay of what was 
caUed religion, timid and unthinking people fancy 
a decay of the hope of man. But the moral and 
religious sentiments meet us everywhere, alike in 



334 EDITORS' ADDRESS. 

markets as in cliurclies. A God starts up behind 
cotton bales also. The conscience of man is regen- 
erated as is the atmosphere, so that society cannot 
be debauched. The health which we call Virtue 
is an equipoise which easily redresses itself, and re- 
sembles those rocking-stones which a child's finger 
can move, and a weight of manjr hundred tons can- 
not overthrow. 

With these convictions, a few friends of good let- 
ters have thought fit to associate themselves for the 
conduct of a new journal. We have obeyed the 
custom and convenience of the time in adopting this 
form of a Review, as a mould into which all metal 
most easily runs. But the form shall not be suf- 
fered to be an impediment. The name might con- 
vey the Impression of a book of criticism, and that 
nothing is to be found here which was not written 
expressly for the Review ; but good, readers know 
that inspired pages are not written to fill a space, 
but for inevitable utterance ; and to such our jour- 
nal is freely and solicitously open, even though 
everything else be excluded. We entreat the aid of 
every lover of truth and right, and let these princi- 
ples entreat for us. We rely on the talents and in- 
dustry of good men known to us, but much more on 
the magnetism of truth, which is multiplpng and 
educating advocates for itself and friends for us. 
We rely on the truth for and against ourselves. 



WOMAN. 

A LECTUEE READ BEFORE TUB WOMAN'S RIGHTS CONVENTION, 
BOSTON, SEPTEMBER 20, 1865. 



WOMAN. 



Among those movements which seem to be, now 
and then, endemic in the public mind, — perhaps 
we should say, sporadic, — rather than the single 
inspiration of one mind, is that which has urged on 
society the benefits of action having for its object 
a benefit to the position of Woman. And none is 
more seriously interesting to every healthful and 
thoughtfid mind. 

In that race which is now predominant over all 
the other races of men, it was a cherished belief 
that women had an oracular nature. They are more 
delicate than men, — delicate as iodine to light, — 
and thus more impressionable. They are the best 
index of the coming hour. I share this belief. I 
think their words are to be weighed ; but it is their 
inconsiderate word, — according to the rule, ' take 
their fixst advice, not their second : ' as Coleridge 
was wont to apply to a lady for her judgment in 
questions of taste, and accept it ; but when she added 
— "I think so, because " — " Pardon me, madam," 
he said, " leave me to find out the reasons for my- 

VOL. XI. 22 



338 WOMAN. 

self." In this sense, as more delicate mercuries of 
tlie imponderable and immaterial influences, what 
they say and think is the shadow of coming events. 
Their very dolls are indicative. Among our Norse ^ 
ancestors, Frigga was worshijjped as the goddess of 
women. " Weirdes all," said the Edda, " Frigga 
knoweth, though she telleth them never." That is 
to say, all wisdoms Woman knows ; though she 
takes them for granted, and does not explain them 
as discoveries, like the understanding of man. Men 
remark figure : women always catch the expression. 
They inspire by a look, and pass with us not so 
much by what they say or do, as by their presence. 
They learn so fast and convey the result so fast as 
to outrun the logic of their slow brother and make 
his acquisitions poor. 'T is their mood and tone 
that is important. Does their mind misgive them, 
or are they firm and cheerful ? 'T is a true report 
that things are going ill or well. And any remark- 
able opinion or movement shared by woman will 
be the first sign of revolution. 

Plato said. Women are the same as men in fac-^ 
ulty, only less in degree. But the general voice of 
mankind has agreed that they have their own 
strength ; that women are strong by sentiment ; 
that the same mental height which their husbands 
attain by toil, they attain by sympathy with their 
husbands. Man is the will, and Woman the senti- 



WOMAN. 339 

ment. In this ship of humanity, Will is the rud- 
der, and Sentiment the sail: when Woman af- 
fects to steer, the rudder is only a masked sail. 
When women engage in any art or trade, it is usu- 
ally as a resource, not as a primary object. The 
life of the affections is primary to them, so that 
there is usually no employment or career which 
they will not with their own applause and that of 
society quit for a suitable marriage. And they 
give entirely to their affections, set their whole for- 
tune on the die, lose themselves eagerly in the glory 
of their husbands and children. Man stands aston- 
ished at a magnanimity he cannot pretend to. Mrs. 
Lucy Hutchinson, one of the heroines of the English 
Commonwealth, who wrote the life of her husband, 
the Governor of Nottingham, says, " If he esteemed 
her at a higher rate than she in herself could have 
deserved, he was the author of that virtue he doted 
on, while she only reflected his own glories upon 
him. All that she was, was Jiim, while he was hers, 
and aU that she is now, at best, but his pale shade." 
As for Plato's opinion, it is true that, up to recent 
times, in no art or science, not in paintmg, poetry, 
or music, have they produced a master-piece. Till 
the new education and larger opportunities of very 
modern times, this position, with the fewest possi- 
ble exceptions, has always been true. Sappho, to 
be sure, in the Olympic Games, gained the crown 



340 WOMAN. 

over Pindar. But, in general, no mastery in either 
of the fine arts — which should, one would say, be 
the arts of women — has yet been obtained by them, 
equal to the mastery of men in the same. The 
part they play in education, in the care of the 
young and the tuition of older children, is their or- 
ganic office in the world. So much sympathy as 
they have, makes them inestimable as the media- 
tors between those who have loiowledge and those 
who want it : besides, their fine organization, their 
taste, and love of details, makes the knowledge they 
give better in their hands. 

But there is an art which is better than painting, 
poetry, music, or architecture, — better than bot- 
any, geology, or any science ; namely, Conversa- 
tion. Wise, cultivated, genial conversation is the 
last flower of civilization and the best result which 
life has to offer us, — a cup for gods, which has no 
repentance. Conversation is our account of our- 
selves. All we have, all we can, all we know, is 
brought into play, and as the reproduction, in finer 
form, of all our havings. 

Women are, by this and their social influence, 
the civilizers of mankind. What is civilization ? I 
answer, the power of good women. It was Burns's 
remark when he first came to Edinburgh that be- 
tween the men of rustic life and the polite world 
he observed little difference ; that in the former, 



W03fAN. 341 

though unpolished by fashion and unenlightened 
by science, he had found much observation and 
much intelligence ; but a refined and accomplished 
woman was a being almost new to him, and of 
which he had formed a very inadequate idea. " I 
like women," said a clear-headed man of the world, 
" they are so finished." They finish society, man- 
ners, language. Form and ceremony are their 
realm. They embellish trifles. All these ceremo- 
nies that hedge our life around are not to be de- 
spised, and when we have become habituated to 
them cannot be dispensed with. No woman can 
despise them with impunity. Their genius delights 
in ceremonies, in forms, in decorating life with 
manners, with proprieties, order and grace. They 
are, in their nature, more relative ; the circum- 
stance must always be fit ; out of place they lose 
half their weight, out of place they are disfran- 
chised. Position, Wren said, is essential to the 
perfecting of beauty ; — a fine building is lost in a 
dark lane ; a statue should stand in the air ; much 
more true is it of woman. 

We commonly say that easy circumstances seem 
somehow necessary to the finish of the female char- 
acter : but then it is to be remembered that they 
create these with all their might. They are always 
making that civilization which they require ; that 
state of art, of decoration, that ornamental life in 
which they best appear. 



342 WOMAN. 

The spiritual force of man is as much shown in 
taste, in his fancy and imagination — attaching 
deep meanings to things and to arbitrary inven- 
tions of no real value, — as in his perception of 
truth. He is as much raised above the beast by 
this creative faculty as by any other. The horse 
and ox use no delays ; they run to the river when 
thirsty, to the corn when hungry, and say no thanks 
but fight down whatever opposes their appetite. 
But man invents and adorns all he does with de- 
lays and degrees, paints it all over with forms, to 
please himself better ; he invented majesty and the 
etiquette of courts and drawing-rooms ; architec- 
ture, curtains, dress, all luxuries and adornments, 
and the elegance of privacy, to increase the joys of 
society. He invented marriage ; and surrounded 
by religion, by comeliness, by all manner of digni- 
ties and renunciations, the union of the sexes. 

And how should we better measure the gulf be- 
tween the best intercourse of men in old Athens, 
in London, or in our American capitals, — between 
this and the hedgehog existence of diggers of 
worms, and the eaters of clay and offal, — than by 
signalizing just this department of taste or come- 
liness ? Herein woman is the prime genius and 
ordainer. There is no grace that is taught by the 
dancing-master, no style adopted into the etiquette 
of courts, but was first the whim and mere action 



WOMAN. 343 

of some brilliant woman, who charmed beholders 
by this new expression, and made it remembered 
and copied. And I think they should magnify 
their ritual of manners. Society, conversation, de- 
corum, flowers, dances, colors, forms, are their 
homes and attendants. They shoidd be found in 
fit surroundings — with fair approaches, with agree- 
able architecture, and with all advantages which 
the means of man collect : — 

" The far-fetched diamond finds its home 

Flashing and smouldering in her hair. 
For her the seas their pearls reveal, 

Art and strange lands her pomp supply 
With purple, chrome and cochineal, 

Ochre and lapis lazuli. 
The worm its golden woof presents. 

Whatever runs, flies, dives or delves 
All doff for her their ornaments. 

Which suit her better than themselves." 

There is no gift of nature without some draw- 
back. So, to women, tliis exquisite structure could 
not exist without its own penalty. More vulner- 
able, more infirm, more mortal than men, they 
could not be such excellent artists in this element 
of fancy if they did not lend and give themselves 
to it. They are poets who believe their own poe- 
try. They emit from their pores a colored atmos- 
phere, one would say, wave upon wave of rosy light, 



344 WOMAN. 

in which they walk evermore, and see all objects 
through this warm-tinted mist that envelops them. 

But the starry crown of woman is in the power 
of her affection and sentiment, and the infinite en- 
largements to which they lead. Beautiful is the 
passion of love, painter and adorner of youth and 
early life : but who suspects, in its blushes and tre- 
mors, what tragedies, heroisms and immortalities 
are beyond it ? The passion, with all its grace and 
poetry, is profane to that which follows it. All ^^ 
these affections are only introductory to that which 
is beyond, and to that which is sublime. 

We men have no right to say it, but the omnipo- 
tence of Eve is in humility. The instincts of man- 
kind have drawn the Virgin Mother — 

" Created beings all in lowliness 
Surpassing, as in height above them all." 

This is the Divine Person whom Dante and Mil- 
ton saw in vision. This is the victory of Griselda, 
her supreme humility. And it is when love has 
reached this height that all our pretty rhetoric be- 
gins to have meaning. When we see that, it adds 
to the soul a new soul, it is honey in the mouth, 
music in the ear and balsam in the heart, v 

" Far have I clambered in my mind, 
But nought so great as Love I find. 
What is thy tent, where dost thou dwell ? 

' My mansion is humility, 
Heaven's vastest capability.' 



WOMAN. 345 

The further it cloth downward tend, 
The higher up it doth ascend." 

The first thing men think of, when they love, is 
to exhibit their usefulness and advantages to the 
object of their affection. Women make light of 
these, asking only love. They wish it to be an ex- 
chanoe of nobleness. 

There is much in their nature, much in their so- 
cial position which gives them a certain power of 
divination. And women know, at first sight, the 
characters of those with whom they converse. 
There is much that tends to give them a religious 
height which men do not attain. Their sequestra- 
tion from affairs and from the injury to the moral 
sense which affairs often inflict, aids this. And in 
every remarkable religious development in the 
world, women have taken a leading part. It is 
very curious that in the East, where Woman oc- 
cupies, nationally, a lower sphere, where the laws 
resist the education and emancipation of women, — 
in the Mohammedan faith. Woman yet occupies the 
same leading position, as a prophetess, that she has 
among the ancient Greeks, or among the Hebrews, 
or among the Saxons. This power, this religious 
character, is everywhere to be remarked in them. 

The action of society is progressive. In barba- 
rous society the position of women is always low — 
in the Eastern nations lower than in the West. 



346 WOMAN. 

' When a daughter is born," says the Shiking, the 
old Sacred Book of China, "she sleeps on the 
ground, she is clothed with a wi-apper, she plays 
with a tile ; she is incapable of evil or of good." 
And something like that position, in all low society, 
is the position of woman ; because, as before re- 
marked, she is herself its civilizer. With the ad- 
vancements of society the position and influence of 
woman bring her strength or her faults into light. 
In modern times, three or four conspicuous in- 
strumentalities may be marked. After the deifica- 
tion of Woman in the Catholic Church, in the six- 
teenth or seventeenth century, — when her religious 
nature gave her, of course, new importance, — the 
Quakers have the honor of having fu'st established, 
in their discipline, the equality in the sexes. It is 
even more perfect in the later sect of the Shakers, 
wherein no business is broached or counselled with- 
out the intervention of one elder and one elderess. 

A second epoch for Woman was in France, — en- 
tirely civil ; the change of sentiment from a rude to 
a polite character, in the age of Louis XIV., — 
commonly dated from the building of the H6tel de 
Rambouillet. I think another important step was 
made by the doctrine of Swedenborg, a sublime 
genius who gave a scientific exposition of the part 
played severally by man and woman in the world, 
and showed the difference of sex to run through na- 



W03fAN. 347 

ture and through thought. Of all Christian sects 
this is at this moment the most vital and aggressive. 

Another step was the effect of the action of the 
age in the antagonism to Slavery. It was easy to 
enlist Woman in this ; it was impossible not to en- 
list her. But that Cause turned out to be a great 
scholar. He was a terrible metaphysician. He 
was a jurist, a poet, a divine. Was never a Uni- 
versity of Oxford or Gottingen that made such stu- 
dents. It took a man from the plough and made 
him acute, eloquent, and wise, to the silencing of the 
doctors. There was nothing it did not pry into, no 
right it did not explore, no wrong it did not expose. 
And it has, among its other effects, given Woman a 
feeling of public duty and an added self-respect. 

One truth leads in another by the hand ; one right 
is an accession of strength to take more. And the 
times are marked by the new attitude of Woman ; 
urging, by argument and by association, her rights 
of all kinds, — in short, to one-haK of the world ; — 
as the right to education, to avenues of employ- 
ment, to equal rights of property, to equal rights 
in marriage, to the exercise of the professions and 
of suffrage. 

Of course, this conspicuousness had its inconven- 
iences. But it is cheap wit that has been spent on 
this subject ; from Aristophanes, in whose comedies 
I confess my dulness to find good joke, to Rabelais, 



348 WOMAN. 

in whom it is monstrous exaggeration of tempera- 
ment, and not borne out by anything in nature, — 
down to English Comedy, and, in our day, to Ten- 
nyson, and the American newspapers. In all, the 
body of the joke is one, namely, to charge women 
with temperament ; to describe them as victims of 
temperament; and is identical with Mahomet's 
opinion that women have not a sufficient moral or 
intellectual force to control the perturbations of 
their physical structure. These were all drawings 
of morbid anatomy, and such satire as might be 
written on the tenants of a hospital or on an asylum 
for idiots. Of course it would be easy for women 
to retaliate in kind, by painting men from the dogs 
and gorillas that have worn our shape. That they 
have not, is an eulogy on their taste and self-respect. 
The good easy world took the joke which it liked. 
There is always the want of thought ; there is al- 
ways credulity. There are plenty of people who be- 
lieve women to be incapable of anything but to 
cook, incapable of interest in affairs. There are 
plenty of people who believe that the world is gov- 
erned by men of dark complexions, that affairs are 
only directed by such, and do not see the use of con- 
templative men, or how ignoble would be the world 
that wanted them. And so without the affection 
of women. 

But for the general charge : no doubt it is well 



WOMAN. 349 

founded. They are victims of the finer tempera- 
ment. They have tears, and gaieties, and faintings, 
and glooms, and devotion to trifles. Nature's end, 
of maternity for twenty years, was of so supreme 
importance that it was to be secured at all events, 
even to the sacrifice of the highest beauty. They 
are more personal. Men taunt them that, what- 
ever they do, say, read or write, they are thinking of 
themselves and their set. Men are not to the same 
degree temperamented, for there are multitudes of 
men who live to objects quite out of them, as to pol- 
itics, to trade, to letters or an art, unhindered by 
any influence of constitution. 

The answer that lies, silent or spoken, in the 
minds of well-meaning persons, to the new claims, 
is tliis : that, though their mathematical justice is 
not to be denied, yet the best women do not wish 
these tilings ; they are asked for by people who 
intellectually seek them, but who have not the sup- 
port or sympathy of the truest women ; and that, if 
the laws and customs were modified in the manner 
proposed, it would embarrass and pain gentle and 
lovely persons with duties which they would find 
irksome and distasteful. Very likely. Providence 
is always surprising us with new and unlikely in- 
struments. But perhaps it is because these people 
have been deprived of education, fine companions, 



350 WOMAN. 

opportunities, such as they wished, — because they 
feel the same rudeness and disadvantage which of- 
fends you, — that they have been stung to say, " It 
is too late for us to be polished and fashioned into 
beauty, but, at least, we will see that the whole 
race of women shall not suffer as we have suf- 
fered." 

They have an unquestionable right to their own 
property. And if a woman demand votes, offices 
and political equality with men, as among the 
Shakers an Elder and Elderess are of equal power, 
— and among the Quakers, — it must not be re- 
fused. It is very cheap wit that finds it so droll 
that a woman should vote. Educate and refine so- 
ciety to the highest point, — bring together a culti- 
vated society of both sexes, in a drawing-room, and 
consult and decide by voices on a question of taste 
or on a question of right, and is there any absurdity 
or any practical difficulty in obtaining their authen- 
tic opinions ? If not, then there need be none in a 
hundred companies, if you educate them and accus- 
tom them to judge. And, for the effect of it, I can 
say, for one, that all my points would sooner be 
carried in the state if women voted. On the ques- 
tions that are important ; — whether the govern- 
ment shall be in one person, or whether rej)resenta- 
tive, or whether democratic ; whether men shall be 
holden in bondage, or shall be roasted alive and 



WOMAN. 351 

eaten, as in Typee, or shall be hunted with blood- 
hounds, as in this country ; whether men shall be 
hanged for stealing, or hanged at all ; whether the 
unlimited sale of cheap liquors shall be allowed ; — 
they would give, I suppose, as intelligent a vote as 
the voters of Boston or New York. 

We may ask, to be sure, — Why need you vote ? 
If new power is here, of a character which solves 
old tough questions, which puts me and all the rest 
in the wrong, tries and condemns our religion, cus- 
toms, laws, and opens new careers to our young re- 
ceptive men and women, you can well leave voting 
to the old dead people. Those whom you teach, and 
those whom you half teach, will fast enough make 
themselves considered and strong with their new 
insight, and votes will follow from all the dull. 

The objection to their voting is the same as is 
urged, in the lobbies of legislatures, against clergy- 
men who take an active part in politics ; — that if 
they are good clergymen they are unacquainted 
with the expediencies of politics, and if they be- 
come good politicians they are worse clergymen. 
So of women, that they cannot enter this arena 
without being contaminated and unsexed. 

Here are two or three objections ; first, a want 
of practical wisdom ; second, a too purely ideal 
view ; and, third, danger of contamination. For 
their want of intimate knowledge of affairs, I do 



352 WOMAN. 

not think this ought to disqualify them from voting 
at any town-meeting wliich I ever attended. I 
could heartily wish the objection were sound. But 
if any man will take the trouble to see how our 
people vote, — how many gentlemen are willing to 
take on themselves the trouble of thinking and de- 
termining for you, and, standing at the door of the 
polls, give every innocent citizen his ticket as he 
comes in, informing him that this is the vote of his 
party ; and how the innocent citizen, without further 
demur, goes and drops it in the baUot-box, — I can- 
not but think he will agree that most women might 
vote as wisely. 

For the other point, of their not knowing the 
world, and aiming at abstract right without allow- 
ance for circumstances, — that is not a disqualifica- 
tion, but a qualification. Human society is made 
up of partialities. Each citizen has an interest 
and a view of his own, which, if followed out to the 
extreme, would leave no room for any other citizen. 
One man is timid and another rash ; one would 
change nothing, and the other is pleased with noth- 
ing; one wishes schools, another armies, one gun- 
boats, another public gardens. Bring all these 
biases together and something is done in favor of 
them all. 

Every one is a half vote, but the next elector be- 
hind him brings the other or corresponding half in 



WOMAN. 353 

his hand: a reasonable result is had. Now there 
is no lack, I am sure, of the expediency, or of the 
interests of trade or of imperative class-interests 
being- neglected. There is no lack of votes repre- 
senting the physical wants ; and if in your city the 
uneducated emigrant vote numbers thousands, rep- 
resenting a brutal ignorance and mere animal 
wants, it is to be corrected by an educated and re- 
ligious vote, representing the wants and desires of 
honest and refined persons. If the wants, the pas- 
sions, the vices, are allowed a full vote through the 
hands of a half -brutal intemperate population, I 
think it but fair that the virtues, the aspirations 
should be allowed a full vote, as an offset, through 
the purest part of the people. 

As for the unsexing and contamination, — that 
only accuses our existing politics, shows how barbar- 
ous we are, — that our policies are so crooked, made 
up of things not to be spoken, to be understood only 
by wink and nudge ; this man to be coaxed, that 
man to be bought, and that other to be duped. It 
is easy to see that there is contamination enough, 
but it rots the men now, and fills the air with 
stench. Come out of that : it is like a dance-cellar. 
The fairest names in this country in literature, in 
law, have gone into Congress and come out dishon- 
ored. And when I read the list of men of intellect, 
of refined pursuits, giants in law, or eminent schol- 

voL. XI. 23 



354 WOMAN. 

ars, OX' of social distinction, leading men of wealth 
and enterprise in the commercial community, and 
see what they have voted for and suffered to be 
voted for, I think no community was ever so po- 
litely and elegantly betrayed. 

I do not think it yet appears that women wish 
this equal share in public affairs. But it is they 
and not we that are to determine it. Let the laws 
be purged of every barbarous remainder, every 
barbarous impediment to women. Let the public 
donations for education be equally shared by them, 
let them enter a school as freely as a church, let 
them have and hold and give their property as men 
do theirs ; — and in a few years it will easily ap- 
pear whether they wish a voice in making the laws 
that are to govern them. If you do refuse them a 
vote, you will also refuse to tax them, — according 
to our Teutonic jDrinciple, No representation, no 
tax. 

All events of history are to be regarded as 
growths and offshoots of the expanding mind of the 
race, and this appearance of new opinions, their 
currency and force in many minds, is itself the 
wonderful fact. For whatever is popular is impor- 
tant, shows the spontaneous sense of the hour. The 
aspiration of this century will be the code of the 
next. It holds of high and distant causes, of the 



WOMAN. 355 

same influences that make the sun and moon. 
When new opinions appear, they will be enter- 
tained and respected, by every fair mind, accord- 
ing to their reasonableness, and not according to 
their convenience, or their fitness to shock our cus- 
toms. But let us deal with them greatly ; let them 
make their way by the upper road, and not by the 
way of manufacturing public opinion, which lapses 
continually into expediency, and makes charlatans. 
All that is spontaneous is irresistible, and forever 
it is individual force that interests. I need not re- 
peat to you, — your own solitude will suggest it, — 
that a masculine woman is not strong, but a lady is. 
The loneliest thought, the purest prayer, is rushing 
to be the history of a thousand years. 

Let us have the true woman, the adorner, the 
hospitable, the religious heart, and no lawyer need 
be called in to write stipidations, the cunning 
clauses of provision, the strong investitures ; — for 
woman moulds the lawgiver and writes the law. 
But I ought to say, I think it impossible to sepa- 
rate the interests and education of the sexes. Im- 
prove and refine the men, and you do the same by 
the women, whether you will or no. Every woman 
being the wife or the daughter of a man, — wife, 
daughter, sister, mother, of a man, she can never 
be very far from his ear, never not of his counsel, 
if she has really something to urge that is good in 



356 WOMAN. 

itself and agreeable to nature. Slavery it is that 
makes slavery ; freedom, freedom. The slavery of 
women happened when the men were slaves of 
kings. The melioration of manners brought their v' 
melioration of course. It could not be otherwise, 
and hence the new desire of better laws. For there 
are always a certain number of passionately loving 
fathers, brothers, husbands and sons who put their 
might into the endeavor to make a daughter, a wife, 
or a mother happy in the way that suits best. 
Woman should find in man her guardian. Silently 
she looks for that, and when she finds that he is 
not, as she instantly does, she betakes her to 
her own defences, and does the best she can. But 
when he is her guardian, fulfilled with all noble- 
ness, knows and accepts his duties as her brother, 
all goes well for both. 

The new movement is only a tide shared by the 
spirits of man and woman ; and you may proceed 
in the faith that whatever the woman's heart is 
prompted to desire, the man's mind is simultane- 
ously prompted to accomplish. 



ADDRESS TO KOSSUTH. 

AT CONCORD, MAY 11, 1852. 



ADDRESS TO KOSSUTH. 



SiE, — The fatigue of your many public visits, in 
such unbroken succession as may compare with the 
toils of a campaign, forbid us to detain you long. 
The people of this town share with their country- 
men the admiration of valor and perseverance ; they, 
like their compatriots, have been hungry to see the 
man whose extraordinary eloquence is seconded by 
the splendor and the solidity of his actions. But, 
as it is the privilege of the people of this town to 
keep a hallowed momid which has a place in the 
story of the country ; as Concord is one of the mon- 
uments of freedom ; we knew beforehand that you 
could not go by us ; you could not take all your 
steps in the pilgrimage of American liberty, until 
you had seen with your eyes the ruins of the bridge 
where a handful of brave farmers opened oui* Rev- 
olution. Therefore, we sat and waited for you. 

And now. Sir, we are heartily glad to see you, at 
last, in these fields. We set no more value than 
you do on cheers and huzzas. But we think that 



360 ADDRESS TO KOSSUTH. 

the graves of our heroes around us throb to-day to 
a footstep that sounded like their own : — 

" The mighty tread 
Brings from the dust the soimd of liberty." 

Sir, we have watched with attention your prog- 
ress through the land, and the varying feeling with 
which you have been received, and the unvarying 
tone and countenance which you have maintained. 
We wish to discriminate in our regard. We wish 
to reserve our honor for actions of the noblest 
strain. We please ourselves that in you we meet 
one whose temper was long since tried in the fire, 
and made equal to all events ; a man so truly in 
love with the greatest future, that he cannot be 
diverted to any less. 

It is our republican doctrine, too, that the wide 
variety of opinions is an advantage. I believe I 
may say of the people of this country at large, that 
their sympathy is more worth, because it stands the 
test of party. It is not a blind wave ; it is a living 
soul contending with living souls. It is, in every 
expression, antagonized. No opinion will pass but 
must stand the tug of war. As you see, the love 
you win is worth something ; for it has been argued 
through ; its foundation searched ; it has proved 
sound and whole ; it may be avowed ; it will last, 
and it will draw all opinion to itself. 

We have seen, with great pleasure, that there is 



ADDRESS TO KOSSUTH. 361 

nothing accidental in your attitude. We have seen 
that you are organically in that cause you plead. 
The man of Freedom, you are also the man of Fate. 
You do not elect, but you are elected by God and 
your genius to the task. We do not, therefore, 
affect to thank you. We only see in you the angel 
of freedom, crossing sea and land ; crossing parties, 
nationalities, private interests and self-esteems; di- 
viding populations where you go, and drawing to 
your part only the good. We are afraid that you 
are growing popular. Sir ; you may be called to the 
dangers of jjrosperity. But, hitherto, you have had 
in all countries and in all parties only the men of 
heart. I do not know but you will have the mil- 
lion yet. Then, may your strength be equal to youi* 
day. But remember, Sir, that everything great and 
excellent in the world is in minorities. 

Far be from us. Sir, any tone of patronage ; we 
ought rather to ask yours. We know the austere 
condition of liberty — that it must be reconquered 
over and over again ; yea, day by day ; that it is a 
state of war ; that it is always slipping from those 
who boast it to those who fight for it : and you, 
the foremost soldier of freedom in this age, — it is 
for us to crave your judgment ; who are we that 
we should dictate to you? You have won your 
own. We only affirm it. This comitry of working- 
men greets in you a worker. This republic greets 



362 ADDRESS TO KOSSUTH. 

in you a republican. We only say, ' Well done, 
good and faithful.' — You have earned your own 
nobility at home. We admit you ad eundem (as 
they say at College). We admit you to the same 
degree, without new trial. We suspend all rules 
before so paramount a merit. You may well sit a 
doctor in the college of liberty. You have achieved 
your right to interpret our Washington. And I 
speak the sense not only of every generous Ameri- 
can, but the law of mind, when I say that it is not 
those who live idly in the city called after his name, 
but those who, all over the world, think and act like 
him, who can claim to explain the sentiment of 
Washington. 

Sir, whatever obstruction from selfishness, indif- 
ference, or from property (which always sympa- 
thizes with possession) you may encounter, we con- 
gratulate you that you have known how to convert 
calamities into powers, exile into a campaign, pres- 
ent defeat into lasting victory. For this new cru- 
sade which you preach to willing and to unwilling 
ears in America is a seed of armed men. You have 
got your story told in every palace and log hut and 
prairie camp, tlu'oughout this continent. And, as 
the shores of Europe and America apijroach every 
month, and their politics will one day mingle, when 
the crisis arrives it will find us all instructed be- 
forehand in the rights and wrongs of Hungary, 
and parties already to her freedom. 



ROBERT BURNS. 

SPEECH AT THE CELEBRATION OF THE BURNS CENTENARY, 
BOSTON, JANUARY 25, 1859. 



ROBERT BURNS. 



Mr. President and Gentlemen : 

I do not know by what untoward accident it has 
chanced, and I forbear to inquire, that, in this ac- 
complished circle, it should fall to me, the worst 
Scotsman of all, to receive your commands, and at 
the latest hour too, to respond to the sentiment 
just offered, and which indeed makes the occasion. 
But I am told there is no appeal, and I must trust 
to the inspirations of the theme to make a fitness 
which does not otherwise exist. Yet, Sir, I heart- 
ily feel the singular claims of the occasion. At 
the first announcement, from I know not whence, 
that the 25th of January was the hundredth anni- 
versary of the birth of Robert Burns, a sudden con- 
sent warmed the great English race, in all its king- 
doms, colonies and States, all over the world, to 
keep the festival. We are here to hold our parlia- 
ment with love and poesy, as men were wont to do 
in the Middle Ages. Those famous parliaments 
might or might not have had more stateliness and 
better singers than we, — though that is yet to be 



366 ROBERT BURNS. 

known, — but they could not have better reason. 
I can only explain this singular unanimity in a race 
which rarely acts together, but rather after their 
watchword, Each for himself, — by the fact that 
Robert Burns, the poet of the middle class, repre- 
sents in the mind of men to-day that great uprising 
of the middle class against the armed and privileged 
minorities, that uprising which worked politically 
in the American and French Revolutions, and 
which, not in governments so much as in education 
and social order, has changed the face of the 
world. 

In order for this destiny, his birth, breeding and 
fortunes were low. His organic sentiment was ab- 
solute independence, and resting as it should on a 
life of labor. No man existed who could look down 
on him. They that looked into his eyes saw that 
they might look down the sky as easily. His muse 
and teaching was common-sense, joyful, aggressive, 
irresistible. Not Latimer, not Luther struck more 
telling blows against false theology than did this 
brave singer. The Confession of Augsburg, the 
Declaration of Independence, the French Rights of 
Man, and the Marseillaise, are not more weighty 
dociunents in the history of freedom than the songs 
of Burns. His satire has lost none of its edge. 
His musical arrows yet sing through the air. He 
is so substantially a reformer that I find his grand 



ROBERT BURNS. 367 

plain sense in close cliain with the greatest masters, 
— Rabelais, Shakspeare in comedy, Cervantes, But- 
ler, and Burns. If I should add another name, I 
find it only in a living- countryman of Burns. 

He is an exceptional genius. The people who 
care nothing for literature and poetry care for 
Burns. It was indifferent — they thought who 
saw him — whether he wrote verse or not : he 
could have done anything else as well. Yet how 
true a poet is he ! And the poet, too, of poor men, 
of gray hodden and the guernsey coat and the 
blouse. He has given voice to all the experiences 
of common life ; he has endeared the farm-house 
and cottage, patches and poverty, beans and barley ; 
ale, the poor man's wine ; hardship ; the fear of 
debt ; the dear society of weans and wife, of broth- 
ers and sisters, proud of each other, knowing so few 
and finding amends for want and obscurity in 
books and thoughts. What a love of nature, and, 
shall I say it? of middle-class nature. Not like 
Goethe, in the stars, or like Byron, in the ocean, 
or Moore, in the luxurious East, but in the homely 
landscape which the poor see around them, — bleak 
leagues of pasture and stubble, ice and sleet and 
rain and snow-choked brooks ; birds, hares, field- 
mice, thistles and heather, wliich he daily knew. 
How many " Bonny Doons " and " Jolm Anderson 
my jo's " and " Auld lang Synes " all around the 



868 ROBERT BURNS. 

earth have his verses been applied to! And his 
love-songs still woo and melt the youths and maids ; 
the farm-work, the country holiday, the fishing-cob- 
ble, are still his debtors to-day. 

And as he was thus the poet of the poor, anxious, 
cheerfid, working humanity, so had he the language 
of low life. He grew up in a rural district, speak- 
ing a patois unintelligible to all but natives, and 
he has made the Lowland Scotch a Doric dialect of 
fame. It is the only example in history of a lan- 
guage made classic by the genius of a single man. 
But more than this. He had that secret of genius 
to draw from the bottom of society the strength of 
its speech, and astonish the ears of the polite with 
these artless words, better than art, and filtered of 
all offence through his beauty. It seemed odious 
to Luther that the devil should have all the best 
tunes ; he would bring them into the churches ; and 
Burns knew how to take from fairs and gypsies, 
blacksmiths and drovers, the speech of the market 
and street, and clothe it with melody. But I am 
detaining you too long. The memory of Burns, — 
I am afraid heaven and earth have taken too good 
care of it to leave us anything to say. The west 
winds are murmuring it. Open the windows be- 
hind you, and hearken for the incoming tide, what 
the waves say of it. The doves perching always 
on the eaves of the Stone Chapel opposite, may 



ROBERT BURNS. 369 

know something about it. Every name in broad 
Scotland keeps his fame bright. The memory of 
Burns, — every man's, every boy's and girl's head 
carries snatches of his songs, and they say them by 
heart, and, what is strangest of all, never learned 
them from a book, but from mouth to mouth. The 
wind whispers them, the birds whistle them, the 
corn, barley, and bulrushes hoarsely rustle them, 
nay, the music-boxes at Geneva are framed and 
toothed to play them ; the hand-organs of the Sa- 
voyards in all cities repeat them, and the chimes of 
bells ring them in the spires. They are the prop- 
erty and the solace of mankind. 
VOL. XI. 24 



WALTER SCOTT. 



REMARKS AT THE CELEBRATION BY THE MASSACHUSETTS HIS- 
TORICAL SOCIETY OF THE CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF HIS 
BIRTH. BOSTON, AUGUST 15,1871. 



WALTEE SCOTT. 



The memory of Sir Walter Scott is dear to this 
Society, of which he was for ten years an Honorary 
Member. If only as an eminent antiquary who has 
shed light on the history of Europe and of the Eng- 
lish race, he had high claims to our regard. But 
to the rare tribute of a centennial anniversary of 
his birthday, which we gladly join with Scotland 
and indeed with Europe to keep, he is not less en- 
titled, — perhaps he alone among the literary men 
of this century is entitled, — by the exceptional 
debt which all English-speaking men have gladly 
owed to his character and genius. I think no 
modern writer has inspired his readers with such 
affection to his own personality. I can well remem- 
ber as far back as when " The Lord of the Isles " 
was first republished in Boston, in 1815, — my own 
and my school-fellows' joy in the book. " Marmion " 
and " The Lay " had gone before, but we were then 
learning to spell. In the face of the later novels, 
we still claim that his poetry is the delight of boys. 
But this means that when we re-open these old 



374 WALTER SCOTT. 

books we all consent to be boys again. We tread 
over our youthful grounds with joy. Critics have 
found them to be only rhymed prose. But I be- 
lieve that many of those who read them in youth, 
when, later, they come to dismiss finally their school- 
days' library, will make some fond exception for 
Scott as for Byron. 

It is easy to see the origin of his poems. His 
own ear had been charmed by old ballads crooned 
by Scottish dames at firesides, and written down 
from their lips by antiquaries ; and, finding them 
now outgrown and dishonored by the new culture, 
he attempted to dignify and adapt them to the 
times in which he lived. Just so much thought, so 
much pictiu'esque detail in dialogue or description 
as the old ballad required, so much suppression of 
details and leaping to the event, he would keep and 
use, but without any ambition to write a high poem 
after a classic model. He made no pretension to 
the lofty style of Spenser, or Milton, or Wordsworth. 
Compared with their purified songs, purified of ail 
ephemeral color or material, his were vers de societe. 
But he had the skill proper to vers de societe, — 
skill to fit his verse to his topic, and not to write 
solemn pentameters alike on a hero or a spaniel. 
His good sense probably elected the ballad to make 
his audience larger. He apprehended in advance 
the immense enlargement of the reading public, 



WALTER SCOTT. 375 

which ahnost dates from the era of his books, — 
which his books and Byron's inaugurated; and 
which, though until then unheard of, has become 
familiar to the present time. 

If the success of his poems, however large, was 
partial, that of his novels was complete. The tone 
of strength in " Waverley " at once announced the 
master, and was more than justified by the superior 
genius of the following romances, up to the " Bride 
of Lammermoor," which almost goes back to ^s- 
chylus for a counterpart, as a painting of Fate, — 
leaving on every reader the impression of the high- 
est and purest tragedy. 

His power on the public mind rests on the singu- 
lar union of two influences. By nature, by his 
reading and taste an aristocrat, in a time and coun- 
try which easily gave him that bias, he had the vir- 
tues and graces of that class, and by his eminent hu- 
manity and his love of labor escaped its harm. He 
saw in the English Church the S3m[ibol and seal of 
all social order ; in the historical aristocracy the 
benefits to the State which Burke claimed for it ; 
and in his own reading and research, such store of 
legend and renown as won his imagination to their 
cause. Not less his eminent humanity delighted in 
the sense and virtue and wit of the common people. 
In his own household and neighbors he found char- 
acters and pets of humble class, with whom he es- 



376 WALTER SCOTT. 

tablished the best relation, — small farmers and 
tradesmen, shepherds, fishermen, gypsies, peasant- 
girls, crones, — and came with these into real ties 
of mutual help and good-will. From these origi- 
nals he drew so genially his Jeanie Deans, his Din- 
monts and Edie Ochiltrees, Caleb Balderstones and 
Fairservices, Cuddie Headriggs, Dominies, Meg 
Merrilies and Jenny Kintherouts, full of life and 
reality ; making these, too, the pivots on which the 
plots of his stories turn ; and meantime without one 
word of brag of this discernment, — nay, this ex- 
treme sympathy reaching down to every beggar and 
beggar's dog, and horse and cow. In the number 
and variety of his characters he approaches Shak- 
speare. Other painters in verse or prose have 
thrown into literature a few type-figures ; as Cer- 
vantes, DeFoe, Richardson, Goldsmith, Sterne and 
Fielding ; but Scott portrayed with equal strength 
and success every figure in his crowded company. 
His strong good sense saved him from the f aidts 
and foibles incident to poets, — from nervous ego- 
tism, sham modesty, or jealousy. He played ever 
a manly part. With such a fortune and such a 
genius, we should look to see what heavy toll the 
Fates took of him, as of Rousseau or Voltaire, of 
Swift or Byron. But no : he had no insanity, or 
vice, or blemish. He was a thoroughly upright, 
wise and great-hearted man, equal to whatever event 



WALTER SCOTT. 377 

or fortune should try him. Disasters only drove 
him to immense exertion. What an ornament and 
safeguard is humor ! Far better than wit for a 
poet and writer. It is a genius itself, and so de- 
fends from the insanities. 

Under what rare conjunction of stars was this 
man born, that, wherever he lived, he found supe- 
rior men, passed all his life in the best company, 
and still found himself the best of the best ! He 
was apprenticed at Edinburgh to a Writer to the 
Signet, and became a Writer to the Signet, and 
found himself in his youth and manhood and age 
in the society of Mackintosh, Horner, Jeffrey, Play- 
fair, Dugald Stewart, Sydney Smith, Leslie, Sir 
William Hamilton, Wilson, Hogg, De Quincey, — 
to name only some of his literary neighbors, and, as 
soon as he died, all this brilliant circle was broken 
up. 



REMAEKS 



AT THE BIEETINQ FOR ORGANIZING THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSO- 
CIATION, BOSTON, MAY 30, 1867. 



KEMAKKS AT THE MEETING FOR OR- 
GANIZING THE FREE RELIG- 
IOUS ASSOCIATION. 



Mr. Chairman: 

I hardly felt, in finding this house this morn- 
ing, that I had come into the right hall. I came, 
as I supposed myself summoned, to a little commit- 
tee meeting, for some practical end, where I should 
happily and humbly learn my lesson ; and I sup- 
posed myself no longer subject to your call when I 
saw this house. I have listened with great pleasure 
to the lessons which we have heard. To many, to 
those last spoken, I have found so much in accord 
with my own thought that I have little left to say. 
I think that it does great honor to the sensibility 
of the committee that they have felt the universal 
demand in the community for just the movement 
they have begun. I say again, in the phrase used 
by my friend, that we began many years ago, — 
yes, and many ages before that. But I think the 
necessity very great, and it has prompted an equal 
magnanimity, that thus invites aU classes, all re- 



382 REMARKS AT THE ORGANIZATION OF 

ligious men, whatever their connections, whatever 
their specialties, in whatever relation they stand to 
the Christian Church, to unite in a movement of 
benefit to men, under the sanction of religion. We 
are all very sensible, — it is forced on us every day, 
— of the feeling that churches are outgrown ; that 
the creeds are outgrown ; that a technical theology 
no longer suits us. It is not the ill-will of people 
— no, indeed, but the incapacity for confining them- 
selves there. The church is not large enough for 
the man ; it cannot inspire the enthusiasm which 
is the parent of everything good in history, which 
makes the romance of history. For that enthusi- 
asm you must have something greater than your- 
selves, and not less. 

The child, the young student, finds scope in his 
mathematics and chemistry or natural history, be- 
cause he finds a truth larger than he is ; finds him- 
self continually instructed. But, in churches, every 
healthy and thoughtful mind finds itself in some- 
thing less; it is checked, cribbed, confined. And 
the statistics of the American, the English and 
the German cities, showing that the mass of the 
population is leaving off going to church, indicate 
the necessity, which should have been foreseen, 
that the Church shoidd always be new and extem- 
porized, because it is eternal and springs from the 
sentiment of men, or it does not exist. One won- 



THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION. 383 

ders sometimes that the churches still retain so 
many votaries, when he reads the histories of the 
Church. There is an element of childish infatua- 
tion in them which does not exalt our respect for 
man. Read in Michelet, that in Europe, for twelve 
or fourteen centuries, God the Father had no tem- 
ple and no altar. The Holy Ghost and the Son of 
Mary were worshipped, and, in the thirteenth cen- 
tury, the First Person began to appear at the side 
of his Son, in pictures and in sculpture, for wor- 
ship, but only through favor of his Son. These 
mortifying puerilities abound in religious history. 
But as soon as every man is apprised of the Divine 
Presence within his own mind, — is apprised that 
the perfect law of duty corresponds with the laws 
of chemistry, of vegetation, of astronomy, as face 
to face in a glass ; that the basis of duty, the order 
of society, the power of character, the wealth of 
culture, the perfection of taste, all draw their es- 
sence from this moral sentiment, then we have a 
religion that exalts, that commands all the social 
and all the private action. 

What strikes me in the sudden movement which 
brings together to-day so many separated friends, 
— separated but sympathetic, — and what I ex- 
■ pected to find here was, some practical suggestions 
by which we were to reanimate and reorganize for 
ourselves the true Church, the pure worship. Pure 



384 THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION. 

doctrine always bears fruit in pure benefits. It is 
only by good works, it is only on the basis of ac- 
tive duty, that worship finds expression. What is 
best in the ancient religions was the sacred friend- 
ships between heroes, the Sacred Bands, and the re- 
lations of the Pythagorean disciples. Our Masonic 
institutions probably grew from the like origin. 
The close association which bound the first disci- 
ples of Jesus is another example ; and it were easy 
to find more. The soul of oiu" late war, which will 
always be remembered as dignifying it, was, first, 
the desire to abolish slavery in this country, and 
secondly, to abolish the mischief of the war itself, 
by healing and saving the sick and wounded sol- 
diers, — and this by the sacred bands of the Sani- 
tary Commission. I wish that the various benefi- 
cent institutions which are springing up, like joyful 
plants of wholesomeness, all over this country, 
should all be remembered as within the sphere of 
this committee, — almost all of them are repre- 
sented here, — and that within this httle band that 
has gathered here to-day, should grow friendship. 
The interests that grow out of a meeting like this, 
should bind us with new strength to the old eter- 
nal duties. 



SPEECH 

AT THE SECOND ANNUAL MEETING OF THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSO- 
CIATION, AT TREMONT TEMPLE, FRIDAY, MAY 28, 1869. 



SPEECH. 

> 

Friends : 

I wish I could deserve anything of the kind ex- 
pression of my friend, the President, and the kind 
good-will which the audience signifies, but it is not 
in my power to-day to meet the natural demands 
of the occasion, and, quite against my design and 
my will, I shall have to request the attention of 
the audience to a few written remarks, instead of 
the more extensive statement which I had hoped to 
offer them. 

I think we have disputed long enough. I think 
we might now relinquish our theological controver- 
sies to communities more idle and ignorant than 
we. I am glad that a more realistic church is com- 
ing to be the tendency of society, and that we are 
likely one day to forget our obstinate polemics in 
the ambition to excel each other in good works. I 
have no wish to proselyte any reluctant mind, nor, 
I think, have I any curiosity or impulse to intrude 
on those whose ways of thinking differ from mine. 
But as my friend, your presiding officer, has asked 
me to take at least some small part in this day's 



388 SPEECH AT THE ANNUAL MEETING OF 

conversation, I am ready to give, as often before, 
the first simple foundation of my belief, that the 
Author of Nature has not left himself without a 
witness in any sane mind : that the moral senti- 
ment speaks to every man the law after which the 
Universe was made ; that we find parity, identity 
of design, through Nature, and benefit to be the 
uniform aim : that there is a force always at work 
to make the best better and the worst good. We 
have had not long since presented us by Max Miil- 
ler a valuable paragraph from St. Augustine, not 
at all extraordinary in itself, but only as coming 
from that eminent Father in the Church, and at 
that age, in which St. Augustine writes : " That 
which is now called the Christian religion existed 
among the ancients, and never did not exist from 
the planting of the human race until Christ came 
in the flesh, at which time the true religion which 
already existed began to be called Christianity." I 
believe that not only Christianity is as old as the 
Creation, — not only every sentiment and precept 
of Christianity can be paralleled in other religious 
writings, — but more, that a man of religious sus- 
ceptibility, and one at the same time conversant 
with many men, — say a much-travelled man, — 
can find the same idea in numberless conversations. 
The religious find religion wherever they associate. 
When I find in people narrow religion, I find also 



THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION. 389 

in them narrow reading. Nothing really is so self- 
publishing, so diviilgatory, as thought. It cannot 
be confined or hid. It is easily carried ; it takes 
no room ; the knowledge of Europe looks out into 
Persia and India, and to the very Kaffirs. Every 
proverb, every fine text, every pregnant jest, trav- 
els across the line ; and you will find it at Cape 
Town, or among the Tartars. We are all believers 
in natural religion ; we all agree that the health 
and integrity of man is self-respect, self-subsist- 
ency, a regard to natural conscience. All educa- 
tion is to accustom him to trust himself, discrimi- 
nate between his higher and lower thoughts, exert 
the timid faculties until they are robust, and thus 
train him to self-help, until he ceases to be an un- 
derling, a tool, and becomes a benefactor. I think 
wise men wish their religion to be all of this kind, 
teaching the agent to go alone, not to hang on the 
world as a pensioner, a permitted person, but an 
adult, self-searching soul, brave to assist or resist 
a world : only humble and docile before the source 
of the wisdom he has discovered within him. 

As it is, every believer holds a different creed ; 
that is, all the churches are churches of one mem- 
ber. All our sects have refined the point of differ- 
ence between them. The point of difference that 
still remains between churches, or between classes, 
is in the addition to the moral code, that is, to nat- 



390 SPEECH AT THE ANNUAL MEETING OF 

ural religion, of somewhat positive and historical. 
I think that to be, as Mr. Abbot has stated it in 
his form, the one difference remaining. I object, 
of course, to the claim of miraculous dispensation, 
— certainly not to the doctrine of Christianity. 
This claim impairs, to my mind, the soundness of 
him who makes it, and indisposes us to his com- 
munion. This comes the wrong way; it comes 
from without, not within. This positive, historical, 
authoritative scheme is not consistent with our ex- 
perience or our expectations. It is something not 
in Nature : it is contrary to that law of nature 
which all wise men recognize ; namely, never to re- 
quire a larger cause than is necessary to the effect. 
George Fox, the Quaker, said that, though he read 
of Christ and God, he knew them only from the 
like spirit in his own soul. We want all the aids 
to our moral training. We cannot spare the vision 
nor the virtue of the saints ; but let it be by pure 
sympathy, not with any personal or official claim. 
If you are childish, and exhibit your saint as a 
worker of wonders, a thaumaturgist, I am repelled. 
That claim takes his teachings out of logic and out 
of nature, and permits official and arbitrary senses 
to be grafted on the teachings. It is the praise of 
our New Testament that its teachings go to the 
honor and benefit of humanity, — that no better 
lesson has been taught or incarnated. Let it stand, 



THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION. 391 

beautiful and wholesome, with whatever is most like 
it ill the teaching and practice of men ; but do not 
attempt to elevate it out of humanity by saying, 
" This was not a man," for then you confound it 
with the fables of every popular religion, and my 
distrust of the story makes me distrust the doc- 
trine as soon as it differs from my own belief. 

Whoever thinks a story gains by the prodigious, 
by adding something out of nature, robs it more 
than he adds. It is no longer an example, a model ; 
no longer a heart-stirring hero, but an exhibition, 
a wonder, an anomaly, removed out of the range 
of influence with thoughtful men. I submit that 
in sound frame of mind, we read or remember the 
religious sayings and oracles of other men, whether 
Jew or Indian, or Greek or Persian, only for 
friendship, only for joy in the social identity which 
they open to us, and that these words would have 
no weight with us if we had not the same conviction 
already. I find something stingy in the unwilling 
and disparaging admission of these foreign opinions, 
— opinions from all parts of the world, — by our 
churchmen, as if only to enhance by their dimness 
the superior light of Christianity. Meantime, ob- 
serve, you cannot bring me too good a word, too 
dazzling a hope, too penetrating an insight from 
the Jews. I hail every one with delight, as show- 
ing the riches of my brother, my fellow-soul, who 



392 THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION. 

could thus think and thus greatly feel. Zealots 
eagerly fasten their eyes on the differences between 
their creed and yours, but the charm of the study 
is in finding the agTcements, the identities, in all 
the religions of men. 

I am glad to hear each sect complain that they 
do not now hold the opinions they are charged 
with. The earth moves, and the mind opens. I 
am glad to believe society contains a class of hum- 
ble souls who enjoy the luxury of a religion that 
does not degrade ; who think it the highest wor- 
ship to expect of Heaven the most and the best ; 
who do not wonder that there was a Christ, but that 
there were not a thousand ; who have conceived an 
infinite hope for mankind; who believe that the 
history of Jesus is the history of every man, written 
large. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

A LECTURE DELIVERED AT THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH, BOSTON, 
MARCH 30, 1878. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 



It is a rule tliat holds in economy as well as in 
hydraulics, that you must have a source higher 
than your tap. The mills, the shops, the iheatre 
and the caucus, the college and the church, have all 
found out this secret. The sailors sail by chronom- 
eters that do not lose two or three seconds in a 
year, ever since Newton explained to Parliament 
that the way to improve navigation was to get good 
watches, and to offer public premiums for a better 
time-keeper than any then in use. The manufac- 
turers rely on turbines of hydraulic perfection ; the 
carpet-mill, on mordants and dyes which exhaust 
the skill of the chemist; the calico print, on de- 
signers of genius who draw the wages of artists, 
not of artisans. Wedgwood, the eminent potter, 
bravely took the sculptor Flaxman to counsel, who 
said, " Send to Italy, search the museums for the 
forms of old Etruscan vases, urns, water-pots, do- 
mestic and sacrificial vessels of all kinds." They 
built great works and called their manufacturing 
village Etruria. Flaxman, with his Greek taste, 



396 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

selected and combined the loveliest forms, which 
were executed in English clay ; sent boxes of these 
as gifts to every court of Europe, and formed the 
taste of the world. It was a renaissance of the 
breakfast table and china-closet. The brave manu- 
facturers made their fortune. The jewellers imi- 
tated the revived models in silver and gold. 

The theatre avails itself of the best talent of 
poet, of painter, and of amateur of taste, to make 
the ensemble of dramatic effect. The marine in- 
surance office has its mathematical counsellor to 
settle averages ; the life-assurance, its table of an- 
nuities. The wine merchant has his analyst and 
taster, the more exquisite the better. He has also, 
I fear, his debts to the chemist as well as to the 
vineyard. 

Our modern wealth stands on a few staples, and 
the interest nations took in our war was exasper- 
ated by the importance of the cotton trade. And 
what is cotton ? One plant out of some two hun- 
dred thousand known to the botanist, vastly the 
larger j)art of which are reckoned weeds. What is 
a weed ? A plant whose virtues have not yet been 
discovered, — every one of the two hundred thou- 
sand probably yet to be of utility in the arts. As 
Bacchus of the vine, Ceres of the wheat, as Ark- 
wright and Whitney were the demi-gods of cotton, 
so prolific Time will yet bring an inventor to every 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 397 

plant. There is not a property in nature but a 
mind is born to seek and find it. For it is not the 
plants or the animals, innumerable as they are, nor 
the whole magazine of material nature that can give 
the sum of power, but the infinite applicability of 
these things in the hands of thinking man, every 
new application being equivalent to a new material. 

Our sleepy civilization, ever since Roger Bacon 
and Monk Schwartz invented gunpowder, has built 
its whole art of war, all fortification by land and 
sea, all drill and military education, on that one 
compound, — all is an extension of a gun-barrel, — ' 
and is very scornfid. about bows and arrows, and 
reckons Greeks and Romans and Middle Ages lit- 
tle better than Indians and bow-and-arrow times. 
As if the earth, water, gases, lightning and caloric 
had not a million energies, the discovery of any one 
of which could change the art of war again, and 
put an end to war by the exterminating forces man 
can apply. 

Now, if this is true in all the useftJ and in the 
fine arts, that the direction must be drawn from a 
superior source or there will be no good work, does 
it hold less in our social and civil life ? 

In our popular politics you may note that each 
aspirant who rises above the crowd, however at 
first making his obedient apprenticeship in party 
tactics, if he have sagacity, soon learns that it is by 



398 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

no means by obeying the vulgar weathercock of his 
party, the resentments, the fears and whims of it, 
that real power is gained, but that he must often 
face and resist the part}^, and abide by his resist- 
ance, and put them in fear ; that the only title to 
their permanent respect, and to a larger following, 
is to see for himself what is the real public interest, 
and to stand for that ; — that is a principle, and 
all the cheering and hissing of the crowd must by 
and by accommodate itself to it. Our times easily 
afford you very good examples. 

The law of water and all fluids is true of wit. 
Prince Metternich said, " Revolutions begin in the 
best heads and run steadily down to the populace." 
It is a very old observation ; not truer because 
Metternich said it, and not less true. 

There have been revolutions w^hich were not in 
the interest of feudalism and barbarism, but in that 
of society. And these are distinguished not by the 
numbers of the combatants nor the numbers of the 
slain, but by the motive. No interest now attaches 
to the wars of York and Lancaster, to the wars of 
German, French and Spanish emperors, which were 
only dynastic wars, but to those in which a princi- 
ple was involved. These are read with passionate 
interest and never lose their pathos by time. When 
the cannon is aimed by ideas, when men with re- 
ligious convictions are behind it, when men die for 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 399 

what they live for, and the mainsx^ring that works 
daily urges them to hazard all, then the cannon ar- 
ticulates its explosions with the voice of a man, then 
the rifle seconds the cannon and the fowling-piece 
the rifle, and the women make the cartridges, and 
all shoot at one mark ; then gods join in the com- 
bat ; then poets are born, and the better code of 
laws at last records the victory. 

Now the culmination of these triumphs of hu- 
manity — and which did virtually include the ex- 
tinction of slavery — is the planting of America. 

At every moment some one country more than 
any other represents the sentiment and the future 
of mankind. None will doubt that America occu- 
pies this place in the opinion of nations, as is 
proved by the fact of the vast immigration into 
this country from all the nations of Western and 
Central Europe. And when the adventurers have 
j)lanted themselves and looked about, they send 
back all the money they can spare to bring their, 
friends. 

Meantime they find this country just passing 
through a great crisis in its history, as necessary 
as lactation or dentition or puberty to the human 
individual. We are in these days settling for our- 
selves and our descendants questions which, as they 
shall be determined in one way or the other, will 
make the peace and prosperity or the calamity of 



400 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

the next ages. The questions of Education, of So- 
ciety, of Labor, the direction of talent, of charac- 
ter, the nature and habits of the American, may 
well occupy us, and more the question of Religion. 

The new conditions of mankind in America are 
really favorable to progress, the removal of absurd 
restrictions and antique inequalities. The mind is 
always better the more it is used, and here it is 
kept in practice. The humblest is daily challenged 
to give his opinion on practical questions, and while 
civil and social freedom exists, nonsense even has 
a favorable effect. Cant is good to provoke com- 
mon sense. The Catholic Church, the trance-me- 
diums, the rebel paradoxes, exasperate the common 
sense. The wilder the paradox, the more sure is 
Punch to put it in the pillory. 

The lodging the power in the people, as in re- 
publican forms, has the effect of holding things 
closer to common sense ; for a court or an aristoc- 
racy, which must always be a small minority, can 
more easily run into follies than a republic, which 
has too many observers, — each with a vote in his 
hand, — to allow its head to be turned by any kind 
of nonsense : since hunger, thirst, cold, the cries of 
children, and debt, are always holding the masses 
hard to the essential duties. 

One hundred years ago the American people at- 
tempted to carry out the bill of political rights to 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 401 

an almost ideal perfection. They have made great 
strides in that direction since. They are now pro- 
ceeding, instructed by their success and by their 
many failures, to carry out, not the bill of rights, 
but the bill of human duties. 

And look what revolution that attempt involves. 
Hitherto government has been that of the single 
person or of the aristocracy. In this country the 
attempt to resist these elements, it is asserted, must 
throw us into the government not quite of mobs, 
but in practice of an inferior class of professional 
politicians, who by means of newspapers and cau- 
cuses really thrust their unworthy minority into the 
place of the old aristocracy on the one side, and of 
the good, industrious, well-taught but unambitious 
population on the other, win the posts of power, 
and o-ive their direction to affairs. Hence liberal 
congresses and legislatures ordain, to the surprise 
of the people, equivocal, interested and vicious 
measures. The men themselves are suspected and 
charged with lobbying and being lobbied. No 
measure is attempted for itself, but the opinion of 
the people is courted in the first place, and the 
measures are perfiinctorily carried through as sec- 
ondary. We do not choose our own candidate, no, 
nor any other man's first choice, — but only the 
available candidate, whom, perhaps, no man loves. 
We do not speak what we think, but grope after 
VOL. XI. 26 



402 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

the practicable and available. Instead of charac- 
ter, there is a studious exclusion of character. The 
people are feared and flattered. They are not rep- 
rimanded. The country is governed in bar-rooms, 
and in the mind of bar-rooms. The low can best 
win the low, and each aspirant for power vies with 
his rival which can stoop lowest, and depart widest 
from himself. 

The partisan on moral, even on religious ques- 
tions, will choose a proven rogue who can answer 
the tests, over an honest, affectionate, noble gentle- 
man ; the partisan ceasing to be a man that he may 
be a sectarian. 

The spirit of our political economy is low and 
degrading. The precious metals are not so precious 
as they are esteemed. Man exists for his own sake, 
and not to add a laborer to the state. The spirit 
of our political action, for the most part, considers 
nothing less than the sacredness of man. Party 
sacrifices man to the measure. 

We have seen the great party of property and 
education in the country drivelling and huckstering 
away, for views of party fear or advantage, every 
principle of humanity and the dearest hopes of man- 
kind ; the trustees of power only energetic when 
mischief could be done, imbecile as corpses when 
evil was to be prevented. 

Our great men succumb so far to the forms of 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 403 

the day as to peril their integrity for the sake of 
adding to the weight of their personal character 
the authority of office, or making a real govern- 
ment titular. Our politics are full of adventurers, 
who having by education and social innocence a 
good repute in the state, break away from the law 
of honesty and think they can afford to join the 
devil's party. 'T is odious, these offenders in high 
life. You rally to the support of old charities and 
the cause of literature, and there, to be sure, are 
these brazen faces. In this innocence you are puz- 
zled how to meet them ; must shake hands with 
them, under protest. We feel toward them as the 
minister about the Cape Cod farm, — in the old 
time when the minister was still invited, in the 
spring, to make a prayer for the blessing of a piece 
of land, — the good pastor being brought to the 
spot, stopped short : " No, this land does not want 
a prayer, this land wants manure." 

" Tis virtue which they want, and wanting it, 
Honor no garment to their backs can fit." 

Parties keep the old names, but exhibit a surpris- 
ing fugacity in creeping out of one snake-skin into 
another of eqvial ignominy and lubricity, and the 
grasshopper on the turret of Faneuil Hall gives a 
proper hint of the men below. 

Everything yields. The very glaciers are vis- 
cous, or regelate into conformity, and the stiffest 



404 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

patriots falter and compromise ; so that will cannot 
be depended on to save us. 

How rare are acts of will ! We are all living 
according to custom ; we do as other people do, and 
shrink from an act of our own. Every such act 
makes a man famous, and we can all count the few 
cases, — half a dozen in our time, — when a public 
man ventured to act as he thought, without waiting 
for orders or for public opinion. John Quincy 
Adams was a man of an audacious indej)endence 
that always kept the public curiosity alive in re- 
gard to what he might do. None could predict his 
word, and a whole congress could not gainsay it 
when it was spoken. General Jackson was a man 
of will, and his phrase on one memorable occasion, 
" I will take the responsibility," is a proverb ever 
since. 

The American marches with a careless swagger 
to the height of power, very heedless of his own lib- 
erty or of other peoples', in his reckless confidence 
that he can have all he wants, risking all the prized 
charters of the human race, bought with battles and 
revolutions and religion, gambling them all away 
for a paltry selfish gain. 

He sits secure in the possession of his vast do- 
main, rich beyond all experience in resources, sees 
its inevitable force unlocking itself in elemental or- 
der day by day, year by year ; looks from his coal' 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 405 

fields, his wheat-bearing prairie, his gold-mines, to 
his two oceans on either side, and feels the security 
that there can be no famine in a country reaching 
through so many latitudes, no want that cannot be 
supplied, no danger from any excess of importation 
of art or learning into a country of such native 
strength, such immense digestive power. 

In proportion to the personal ability of each man, 
he feels the invitation and career which the country 
opens to him. He is easily fed with wheat and 
game, with Ohio wine, but his brain is also pam- 
pered by finer draughts, by political power and by 
the power in the railroad board, in the mills, or the 
banks. This elevates his spirits, and gives, of 
course, an easy self-reliance that makes him self- 
willed and unscrupulous. 

I think this levity is a reaction on the people from 
the extraordinary advantages and invitations of 
their condition. When we are most disturbed by 
their rash and immoral voting, it is not malignity, 
but recklessness. They are careless of politics, be- 
cause they do not entertain the possibility of being 
seriously caught in meshes of legislation. They feel 
strong and irresistible. They believe that what 
they have enacted they can repeal if they do not 
like it. But one may run a risk once too often. 
They stay away from the polls, saying that one vote 
can do no good ! Or they take another step, and 



406 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

say One vote can do no harm ! and vote for some- 
thing which they do not approve, because their 
party or set votes for it. Of course this puts them 
in the power of any party having a steady interest 
to promote which does not conflict manifestly with 
the pecuniary interest of the voters. But if they 
should come to be interested in themselves and in 
their career, they would no more stay away from the 
election than from their own counting-room or the 
house of their friend. 

The people are right-minded enough on ethical 
questions, but they must pay their debts, and must 
have the means of living well, and not pinching. 
So it is useless to rely on them to go to a meeting, 
or to give a vote, if any check from this must-have- 
the-money side arises. If a customer looks grave 
at their newspaper, or damns their member of Con- 
gress, they take another newspaper, and vote for 
another man. They must have money, for a cer- 
tain style of living fast becomes necessary ; they 
must take wine at the hotel, first, for the look of 
it, and second, for the purpose of sending the bottle 
to two or three gentlemen at the table ; and pres- 
ently because they have got the taste, and do not 
feel that they have dined without it. 

The record of the election now and then alarms 
people by the all but unanimous choice of a rogue 
and brawler. But how was it done ? What law- 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 407 

less mob burst into the polls and threw in these 
hundreds of ballots in defiance of the magistrates ? 
This was done by the very men you know, — the 
mildest, most sensible, best-natured people. The 
only account of this is, that they have been scared 
or warped into some association in their mind of 
the candidate with the interest of their trade or of 
their property. 

Whilst each cabal urges its candidate, and at 
last brings, with cheers and street-demonstrations, 
men whose names are a knell to all hope of prog- 
ress, the good and wise are hidden in their active 
retirements, and are quite out of question. 

" These we must join to wake, for these are of the strain 
That justice dare defend, and will the age maintain." 

Yet we know, all over this country, men of in- 
tegrity, capable of action and of affairs, with the 
deepest sympathy in all that concerns the public, 
mortified by the national disgrace, and quite ca- 
pable of any sacrifice except of their honor. 

Faults in the working appear in our system, as 
in all, but they suggest their own remedies. After 
every practical mistake out of which any disaster 
grows, the people wake and correct it with energy. 
And any disturbances in politics, in civil or foreign 
wars, sober them, and instantly show more virtue 



408 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

and conviction in the popular vote. In eacli new 
threat of faction the ballot has been, beyond expec- 
tation, right and decisive. 

It is ever an inspiration, God only knows whence ; 
a sudden, undated perception of eternal right com- 
ing into and correcting things that were wrong ; a 
j)erception that passes through thousands as readily 
as through one. 

The gracious lesson taught by science to this 
country is, that the history of nature from first to 
last is incessant advance from less to more, from 
rude to finer organization, the globe of matter thus 
conspiring with the principle of undying hope in 
man. Nature works in immense time, and spends 
individuals and races prodigally to prepare new 
individuals and races. The lower kinds are one af- 
ter one extinguished ; the higher forms come in. 
The history of civilization, or the refining of cer- 
tain races to wonderful power of performance, is 
analogous ; but the best civilization yet is only valu- 
able as a ground of hope. 

Ours is the country of j)oor men. Here is prac- 
tical democracy ; here is the human race poured 
out over the continent to do itseK justice ; all man- 
kind in its shirt-sleeves ; not grimacing like poor 
rich men in cities, pretending to be rich, but un- 
mistakably taking off its coat to hard work, when 
labor is sure to pay. This through all the country. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 409 

For really, though you see wealth in the capitals, 
it is only a sprinkling of rich men in the cities and 
at sparse points ; the bulk of the population is poor. 
In Maine, nearly every man is a lumberer. In 
Massachusetts, every twelfth man is a shoemaker, 
and the rest, millers, farmers, sailors, fishermen. 

Well, the result is, instead of the doleful experi- 
ence of the European economist, who tells us, " In 
almost all countries the condition of the great body 
of the people is poor and miserable," here that same 
great body has arrived at a sloven plenty, — ham 
and corn-cakes, tight roof and coals enough have 
been attained ; an unbuttoned comfort, not clean, 
not thoughtful, far from polished, without dignity 
in his repose ; the man awkward and restless if he 
have not something to do, but honest and kind for 
the most part, understanding his own rights and 
stiff to maintain them, and disposed to give his 
children a better education than he received. 

The steady improvement of the public schools in 
the cities and the country enables the farmer or la- 
borer to secure a precious primary education. It is 
rare to find a born American who cannot read and 
write. The facility with which clubs are formed 
by young men for discussion of social, political and 
intellectual topics secures the notoriety of the ques- 
tions. 

Our institutions, of which the town is the unit, 



410 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

are all educational, for responsibility educates fast. 
The town meeting is, after the high school, a higher 
school. The legislature, to which every good 
farmer goes once on trial, is a superior academy. 

The result appears in the power of invention, the 
freedom of thinking, in the readiness for reforms, 
eagerness for novelty, even for all the follies of 
false science ; in the antipathy to secret societies, 
in the predominance of the democratic party in 
the politics of the Union, and in the voice of the 
public even when irregular and vicious, — the voice 
of mobs, the voice of lynch law, — because it is 
thought to be, on the whole, the verdict, though 
badly sj^oken, of the greatest number. 

All this forwardness and self-reliance cover self- 
government ; proceed on the belief that as the peo- 
ple have made a government they can make an- 
other ; that their union and law are not in their 
memory, but in their blood and condition. If they 
unmake a law they can easily make a new one. In 
Mr. Webster's imagination the American Union 
was a huge Prince Rupert's drop, which will snap 
into atoms if so much as the smallest end be shiv- 
ered off. Now the fact is quite different from this. 
The people are loyal, law-abiding. They prefer 
order, and have no taste for misrule and uproar. 

America was opened after the feudal mischief 
was spent, and so the people made a good start. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 411 

We began well. No inquisition liere, no kings, no 
nobles, no dominant church. Here heresy has lost 
its terrors. We have eight or ten religions in every 
large town, and the most that comes of it is a de- 
gree or two on the thermometer of fashion ; a pew 
in a particular church gives an easier entrance to 
the subscription ball. 

We began with freedom, and are defended from 
shocks now for a century by the facility with which 
through popular assemblies every necessary meas- 
ure of reform can instantly be carried. A congress 
is a standing insurrection, and escapes the violence 
of accumulated grievance. As the globe keeps its 
identity by perpetual change, so our civil system, by 
perpetual appeal to the people and acceptance of 
its reforms. 

The government is acquainted with the opinions 
of all classes, knows the leading men in the mid- 
dle class, knows the leaders of the humblest class. 
The President comes near enough to these ; if he 
does not, the caucus does, the primary ward and 
town meeting, and what is important does reach 
him. 

The men, the women, all over this land shrill 
their exclamations of impatience and indignation 
at what is short-coming or is unbecoming in the 
government, — at the want of humanity, of moral- 
ity, — ever on broad grounds of general justice, and 



412 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

not on the class-feeling which narrov/s the percep 
tion of English, French, German people at home. 

In this fact, that we are a nation of individuals, 
that we have a highly intellectual organization, that 
we can see and feel moral distinctions, and that on 
such an organization sooner or later the moral laws 
must tell, to such ears must speak, — in this is our 
hope. For if the prosperity of this country has 
been merely the obedience of man to the guiding 
of nature, — of great rivers and prairies, — yet is 
there fate above fate, if we choose to speak this 
language ; or, if there is fate in corn and cotton, so 
is there fate in thought, — this, namely, that the 
largest thought and the widest love are born to 
victory, and must prevail. 

The revolution is the work of no man, but the 
eternal effervescence of nature. It never did not 
work. And we say that revolutions beat all the 
insurgents, be they never so determined and poli- 
tic ; that the great interests of mankind, being at 
every moment through ages in favor of justice and 
the largest liberty, will always, from time to time, 
gain on the adversary and at last win the day. 
Never country had such a fortune, as men call for- 
tune, as this, in its geography, its history, and in 
its majestic possibilities. 

We have much to learn, much to correct, — a 
great deal of lying vanity. The spread eagle must 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 413 

fold his foolish wings and be less of a peacock ; 
must keep his wings to carry the thunderbolt when 
he is commanded. We must realize our rhetoric 
and our rituals. Our national flag is not affecting, 
as it should be, because it does not represent the 
population of the United States, but some Balti- 
more or Chicago or Cincinnati or Philadelphia 
caucus ; not union or justice, but selfishness and 
cunning. If we never put on the liberty-cap until 
we were freemen by love and self-denial, the liberty- 
cap would mean something. I wish to see America 
not like the old powers of the earth, grasping, ex- 
clusive and narrow, but a benefactor sueh as no 
country ever was, hospitable to all nations, legislat- 
ing for all nationalities. Nations were made to 
helj) each other as much as families were ; and all 
advancement is by ideas, and not by brute force or 
mechanic force. 

In this country, with our practical understand- 
ing, there is, at present, a great sensualism, a head- 
long devotion to trade and to the conquest of the 
continent, — to each man as large a share of the 
same as he can carve for himself, — an extravagant 
confidence in our talent and activity, which be- 
comes, whilst successful, a scornful materialism, — 
but with the fault, of course, that it has no depth, 
no reserved force whereon to fall back when a re- 
verse comes. 



414 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

That repose which is the ornament and ripeness 
of man is not American. That repose which indi- 
cates a faith in the laws of the miiverse, — a faith 
that they will fulfil themselves, and are not to be 
impeded, transgressed, or accelerated. Our people 
are too slight and vain. They are easily elated and 
easily depressed. See how fast they extend the 
fleeting fabric of their trade, — not at all consider- 
ing the remote reaction and bankruptcy, but with 
the same abandonment to the moment and the facts 
of the hour as the Esquimaux who sells his bed in 
the morning. Our people act on the moment, and 
from external impulse. They all lean on some 
other, and this superstitiously, and not from insight 
of his merit. They follow a fact ; they follow suc- 
cess, and not skill. Therefore, as soon as the suc- 
cess stops and the admirable man blunders, they 
quit him; already they remember that they long- 
ago suspected his judgment, and they transfer the 
repute of judgment to the next prosperous person 
who has not yet blundered. Of course this levity 
makes them as easily despond. It seems as if his- 
tory gave no account of any society in which de- 
spondency came so readily to heart as we see it and 
feel it in ours. Young men at thirty and even 
earlier lose all spring and vivacity, and if they fail 
in their first enterprise throw up the game. 

The source of mischief is the extreme difficulty 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 415 

with which men are roused from the torpor of every 
day. Blessed is all that agitates the mass, breaks 
up this torpor, and begins motion. Corimra non 
agunt nisi soluta ; the chemical ride is true in 
mind. Contrast, change, interruption, are necessary 
to new acti\dty and new combinations. 

If a temperate wise man should look over our 
American society, I think the first danger that 
would excite his alarm would be the European in- 
fluences on this country. We buy much of Europe 
that does not make us better men : and mainly the 
expensiveness which is ruining that country. We 
import trifles, dancers, singers, laces, books of pat- 
terns, modes, gloves and cologne, manuals of Goth- 
ic architecture, steam-made ornaments. America 
is provincial. It is an immense Halifax. See the 
secondariness and aping of foreign and English life, 
that runs through this country, in building, in dress, 
in eating, in books. Every village, every city has 
its architecture, its costume, its hotel, its private 
house, its church, from England. 

Our politics threaten her. Her manners threaten 
us. Life is grown and growing so costly that it 
threatens to kill us. A man is coming, here as 
there, to value himself on what he can buy. Worst 
of all, his expense is not his own, but a far-off copy 
of Osborne House or the Elys^e. The tendency of 



416 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

this is to make all men alike ; to extinguish individ- 
ualism and choke up all the channels of insj^iration 
from God in man. We lose our invention and de- 
scend into imitation. A man no longer conducts 
his own life. It is manufactured for him. The 
tailor makes your dress ; the baker your bread ; the 
upholsterer, from an imported book of patterns, 
your furniture ; the Bishop of London your faith. 
In the planters of this country, in the seventeenth 
century, the conditions of the country, combined 
with the impatience of arbitrary power which they 
brought from England, forced them to a wonderful 
personal independence and to a certain heroic plant- 
ing and trading. Later this strength appeared in 
the solitudes of the West, where a man is made a 
hero by the varied emergencies of his lonely farm, 
and neighborhoods must combine against the In- 
dians, or the horse-thieves, or the river rowdies, by 
organizing themselves into committees of vigilance. 
Thus the land and sea educate the people, and bring 
out presence of mind, self-reliance, and hundred- 
handed activity. These are the people for an emer- 
gency. They are not to be surprised, and can find 
a way out of any peril. This rough and ready 
force becomes them, and makes them fit citizens 
and civilizers. But if we found them clinging to 
English traditions, which are graceful enough at 
home, as the English Church, and entailed estates, 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 417 

and distrust of popular election, we should feel this 
reactionary, and absurdly out of place. 

Let the passion for America cast out the passion 
for Europe. Here let there be what the earth 
waits for, — exalted manhood. Wliat this country 
longs for is personalities, grand j)ersons, to coun- 
teract its materialities. For it is the rule of the 
universe that corn shall serve man, and not man 
corn. 

They who find America insipid, — they for whom 
London and Paris have spoiled their own homes, 
can be spared to return to those cities. I not only 
see a career at home for more genius than we have, 
but for more than there is in the world. 

The class of which I speak make themselves 
merry without duties. They sit in decorated club- 
houses in the cities, and burn tobacco and play 
whist ; in the country they sit idle in stores and 
bar-rooms, and burn tobacco, and gossip and sleep. 
They complain of the flatness of American life ; 
"• America has no illusions, no romance." They 
have no perception of its destiny. They are not 
Americans. 

The felon is the logical extreme of the epicure 
and coxcomb. Selfish luxury is the end of both, 
though in one it is decoi-ated with refinements, and 
in the other brutal. But my point now is, that 
this spirit is not American. 

VOL. XI. 27 



418 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

Our young men lack idealism. A man for suc- 
cess must not be pure idealist, then he will jjracti- 
cally fail ; but he must have ideas, must obey ideas, 
or he might as well be the horse he rides on. A 
man does not want to be sun-dazzled, sun-blind ; 
but every man must have glimmer enough to keep 
him from knocking his head against the walls. 
And it is in the interest of civilization and good 
society and friendship, that I dread to hear of well- 
born, gifted and amiable men, that they have this 
indifference, disposing them to this despair. 

Of no use are the men who study to do exactly 
as was done before, who can never understand that 
to-day is a new day. There never was such a com- 
bination as this of ours, and the rules to meet it are 
not set down in any history. We want men of 
original perception and original action, who can 
open their eyes wider than to a nationality, — 
namely, to considerations of benefit to the human 
race, — can act in the interest of civilization ; men 
of elastic, men of moral mind, who can live in the 
moment and take a step forward. Columbus was 
no backward-creeping crab, nor was Martin Luther, 
nor John Adams, nor Patrick Henry, nor Thomas 
Jefferson ; and the Genius or Destiny of America 
is no log or sluggard, but a man incessantly ad- 
vancing, as the shadow on the dial's face, or the 
heavenly body by whose light it is marked. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 419 

The flowering of civilization is the finished man, 
the man of sense, of grace, of accomplishment, of 
social power, — the gentleman. What hinders that 
he be born here ? The new times need a new man, 
the complemental man, whom plainly this country 
must furnish. Freer swing his arms ; farther 
pierce his eyes; more forward and forthright his 
whole build and rig than the Englishman's, who, 
we see, is much imprisoned in his backbone. 

'Tis certain that our civilization is yet incom- 
plete, it has not ended nor given sign of ending in 
a hero. 'T is a wild democracy ; the riot of medi- 
ocrities and dishonesties and fudges. Ours is the 
age of the omnibus, of the third person plural, of 
Tammany Hall. Is it that Nature has only so 
much vital force, and must dilute it if it is to be 
multiplied into millions ? The beautiful is never 
plentiful. Then Illinois and Indiana, with their 
spawning loins, must needs be ordinary. 

It is not a question whether we shall be a multi- 
tude of people. No, that has been conspicuously 
decided already ; but whether we shall be the new 
nation, the guide and lawgiver of all nations, as 
having clearly chosen and firmly held the simplest 
and best rule of political society. 

Now, if the spirit wliich years ago armed this 
coimtry against rebellion, and put forth such gi- 



420 TEE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

gantic energy in the charity of the Sanitary Com- 
mission, could be waked to the conserving and cre- 
ating duty of making the laws just and humane, it 
were to enroll a great constituency of religious, 
self-respecting, brave, tender, faithful obeyers of 
duty, lovers of men, filled with loyalty to each other, 
and with the simple and sublime purpose of carry- 
ing out in private and in public action the desire 
and need of mankind. 

Here is the post where the patriot should plant 
himself ; here the altar where virtuous young men, 
those to whom friendship is the dearest covenant, 
should bind each other to loyalty; where genius 
should kindle its fires and bring forgotten truth to 
the eyes of men. 

It is not possible to extricate yourself from the 
questions in which your age is involved. Let the 
good citizen perform the duties put on him here 
and now. It is not by heads reverted to the dying 
Demosthenes, or to Luther, or to Wallace, or to 
George Fox, or to George Washington, that you 
can combat the dangers and dragons that beset the 
United States at this time. I believe this cannot 
be accomplished by dunces or idlers, but requires 
docility, sympathy, and religious receiving from 
higher principles ; for liberty, like religion, is a short 
and hasty fruit, and like all power subsists only by 
new rallyings on the source of inspiration. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 421 

Power ean be generous. The very grandeur of 
the means which offer themselves to us should sug- 
gest grandeur in the direction of our expenditure. 
If our mechanic arts are unsurpassed in usefulness, 
if we have taught the river to make shoes and nails 
and carpets, and the bolt of heaven to write our 
letters like a Gillott pen, let these wonders work 
for honest humanity, for the poor, for justice, gen- 
ius and the public good. Let us realize that this 
country, the last found, is the great charity of God 
to the human race. 

America should affirm and establish that in no 
instance shall the guns go in advance of the present 
right. We shall not make coups d'etat and after- 
wards explain and pay, but shall proceed like Wil- 
liam Penn, or whatever other Christian or humane 
person who treats with the Indian or the foreigner, 
on principles of honest trade and mutual advantage. 
We can see that the Constitution and the law in 
America must be written on ethical principles, so 
that the entire power of the spiritual world shall 
hold the citizen loyal, and repel the enemy as by 
force of nature. It should be mankind's bill of 
rights, or Royal Proclamation of the Intellect as- 
cending the throne, announcing its good pleasure 
that now, once for all, the world shall be governed 
by common sense and law of morals. 

The end of all political struggle is to establish 



422 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

morality as the basis of all legislation. 'T is not 
free institutions, 'tis not a democracy that is the 
end, — no, but only the means. Morality is the 
object of government. We want a state of things 
in which crime will not pay ; a state of things which 
allows every man the largest liberty compatible 
with the liberty of every other man. 

Humanity asks that government shall not be 
ashamed to be tender and paternal, but that dem- 
ocratic institutions shall be more thoughtful for the 
interests of women, for the training of children, 
and for the welfare of sick and unable persons, and 
serious care of criminals, than was ever any the 
best government of the Old World. 

The genius of the country has marked out our 
true policy, — opportunity. Oj^portunity of civil 
rights, of education, of personal power, and not less 
of wealth ; doors wide open. If I could have it, — 
free trade with all the world without toll or custom- 
houses, invitation as we now make to every nation, 
to every race and skin, white men, red men, yellow 
men, black men ; hospitality of fair field and equal 
laws to all. Let them compete, and success to the 
strongest, the wisest and the best. The land is 
wide enough, the soil has bread for all. 

I hope America will come to have its pride in 
being a nation of servants, and not of the served. 
How can men have any other ambition where 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 423 

the reason has not suffered a disastrous eclipse ? 
Whilst every man can say I serve, — to the whole 
extent of my being I apply my faculty to the service 
of mankind in my especial place, — he therein sees 
and shows a reason for his being in the world, and 
is not a moth or incumbrance in it. 

The distinction and end of a soundly constituted 
man is his labor. Use is inscribed on all his facul- 
ties. Use is the end to which he exists. As the 
tree exists for its fruit, so a man for his work. A 
fruitless plant, an idle animal, does not stand in 
the universe. They are all toiling, however secretly 
or slowly, in the province assigned them, and to a 
use in the economy of the world ; the higher and 
more complex organizations to higher and more 
catholic service. And man seems to play, by his 
instincts and activity, a certain part that even tells 
on the general face of the planet, drains swamps, 
leads rivers into dry countries for their irrigation, 
perforates forests and stony mountain-chains with 
roads, hinders the inroads of the sea on the conti- 
nent, as if dressing the globe for happier races. 

On the whole, I know that the cosmic results will 
be the same, whatever the daily events may be. 
Happily we are under better guidance than of 
statesmen. Pennsylvania coal mines, and New York 
shipping, and free labor, though not idealists, grav- 
itate in the ideal direction. Nothing less large than 



424 THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 

justice can keejj them in good temper. Justice sat- 
isfies everybody, and justice alone. No monopoly 
must be foisted in, no weak party or nationality 
sacrificed, no coward compromise conceded to a 
strong partner. Every one of these is the seed of 
vice, war and national disorganization. It is our 
part to carry out to the last the ends of liberty and 
justice. We shall stand, then, for vast interests ; 
north and south, east and west will be present to 
our minds, and our vote will be as if they voted, 
and we shall know that our vote secures the foun- 
dations of the state, good-will, liberty and security 
of traffic and of production, and mutual increase of 
good-will in the great interests. 

Our helm is given up to a better guidance than 
our own ; the course of events is quite too strong 
for any helmsman, and our little wherry is taken in 
tow by the ship of the great Admiral which knows 
the way, and has the force to draw men and states 
and planets to their good. 

Such and so potent is this high method by which 
the Divine Providence sends the chiefest benefits 
under the mask of calamities, that I do not think 
we shall by any perverse ingenuity prevent the 
blessing. 

In seeing this guidance of events, in seeing this 
felicity without example that has rested on the 
Union thus far, I find new confidence for the future. 



THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC. 425 

I could heartily wish that our will and endeavor 
were more active parties to the work. But I see 
in all directions the light breaking. Trade and 
government will not alone be the favored aims of 
mankind, but every useful, every elegant art, every 
exercise of imagination, the height of reason, the 
noblest affection, the purest religion will find their 
home in our institutions, and write our laws for the 
benefit of men. 



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